


I Don't Enjoy to Watch you Crumble

by Ugawa



Category: Naruto
Genre: Heavy Angst, M/M, Mental Anguish, Psychological Trauma, Suicide, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-11-29 10:02:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11438541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ugawa/pseuds/Ugawa
Summary: 'Konoha Corps. That's what they called us. A prestigious, undercover school for the new generation of agents. As first generation, we were the test subjects; the children of secret, offered up to train. Offered to the school so they could create a curriculum. Not many survived the harsh first year. They'd no idea how delicate a child's psyche could be. So many broke, ending up on the psych-ward, or worse, in a coffin. The training schedule eased by the second year, but it was too late, the damage had been done.'When Sasuke fakes his death for a covert mission, not even Naruto can know he's alive. For this to work, The blond's reaction must be realistic. Torture, loss and pain brought the boys together during their training at Konoha Corp's academy. Throughout Sasuke's musings of the past, he knows Naruto will struggle to cope with his death, so he must complete the mission ASAP. [Torture/Murder]





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys.
> 
> This is my first fanfic on this platform. I hope you enjoy.  
> x

I brush my fingers against clammy skin on his arm, and breathe slowly to take in his scent. I want it etched into my nostrils. I don't want to forget this musty, sweet smell. He curls tightly into the purple silk blanket that surrounds us, and I move a stray blond lock that sticks to his cheek.

He really is beautiful. Mind, body and soul. I peer at him through the darkness, eyes adjusting enough to see his skin glow ever so slightly in the moonlight coming from the unclosed curtains.

My arm brings him closer to my chest as I pull our bodies together, and I dig my face into the crook of his neck. When my alarm rings, I pull back from his warmth. He stirs, eyes fluttering open, before blinking in consciousness. The tan in his skin doesn't exist within this light, the darkness does not permit it. The dips of his muscle are still there, and they flex as he stretches and rubs a hand over his face.

"Morning," I whisper, and he replies with an incoherent ramble under his breath. I hear my name, but nothing more. I kiss his ear, and an arm raises sluggishly to rub against my face.

"Morning," he eventually mumbles back.

I don't want to leave the comfort of our bed. I want to stay entwined against his body forever, but I slip out from the covers and busy myself with showering and changing for work. I change into my mission clothing, barely looking away from his form underneath the duvet. I want to remember everything. My bodyweight dips the mattress when I crawl onto the bed. "I'm leaving," I say into his ear.

"Hmm," he murmurs. "Stay safe."

I don't reply straight away. This is one mission I must take alone. There's a rat in the organisation, and for me to go covert undetected, I have to fake my death. It has to be believable, and so does Naruto's reaction.

He can't know the truth.

I'd dabbled with the idea of leaving a note, just so he would know I was safe, but there could be no slip ups. I had to be dead, to everyone apart for Kakashi.

"I love you," I whisper, but I don't think he hears me. His breaths already even out. I leave the apartment, closing the door, and my life with Naruto, behind me.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
THREE YEARS EARLIER  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
I slammed the riffle against the metal table and pulled the blindfold from my face. Bright lights invaded my senses as the classroom came into focus, and I stood to signal the completion of my test. The clatter of metal hitting against metal floated around the room as other boys stand. I didn't move; I barely breathed as Mr. Kakashi inspected the weapons and ticked off names from a clipboard.

The silver haired man stopped in front of me to inspect the riffle. His one good eye examined the large gun. "Very good, Sasuke. A new record," he said, before turning to move on.

"Thank you, sir."

Konoha Corps. That's what they called us. A prestigious, undercover school for the new generation of agents. As first generation, we were the test subjects; the children of secret, offered up to train. Offered to the school so they could create a curriculum. Not many survived the harsh first year. They'd no idea how delicate a child's psyche could be. So many broke, ending up on the psych-ward, or worse, in a coffin. The training schedule eased by the second year, but it was too late, the damage had been done.

My father, head of the covert-mission department in Konoha corporation had enrolled me. My older brother had been the gem in his eyes, already entrusted missions from the age of thirteen. I supposed he'd wanted the same for me. And so this is where he'd dumped me, and this is where I'd grown up from the age of eleven. Day in, day out, we woke, trained and went to bed. That was our life, that's how we survived, and in five years nothing really happened to differ the situation.

I was first generation; the best student the school had. I was told I'd go places and that's what I believed. I had no reason to think otherwise, that was, until a new student appeared one day, throwing everything into the air.

I placed my shoulder bag into my locker, pulled out a couple books for Intel Extraction class and closed the cold, metal door. Gaara leaned against the lockers, books already clutched to his side. "Ready?" he asked. I nodded, and we made our way silently to last period. I supposed we were friends, he was the closest to one I had. "I've heard we have a new recruit." I doubted he'd heard that information. He spent most his free time undetected in Konoha corps' mainframe system. Never too great in combat, but was a hacking genius.

"A new recruit?" Odd, we'd had people leave the academy, but never enter, and so close to graduation.

"Hmm," he hummed, falling silent as we turned a corner and passed a group of younger generations laughing and joking. I wondered if they had any idea what the place had been like before their time. Now, the children were given respite. They were allowed to leave. They no longer undertook certain training until they'd been tested. The teachers were no longer allowed to torture a child under the age of sixteen. It had been written into the curriculum; it was now exclusively for graduation year students.

I watched two forth generation kids nudge each other before pointing at Gaara and myself. With so few of us left, it was abnormal to see a first generation recruit in the hallway, let alone two together. We were viewed as tough, cold. Stories and rumours floated around the academy. We'd been forced to kill one another, we had been genetically tested on, that's why we were so guarded, emotionless, or so they'd whisper.

"His father's an assassin, affiliated with the government, apparently."

"Apparently..." We walked momentarily in silence through the bright corridor. Metal covered the floors, the walls. They kept us contained. Gaara's grey uniform was ripped to his elbows, blood staining the frayed material. "Combat training not going so well?"

"That Kiba is an animal." He shrugged. "It's not like I'd be sent into the field, anyway."

"This recruit," I asked. "I'm assuming he has been trained if he's entering graduation year."

"I'd assume you assume correct. Perhaps we will find out." We entered the classroom, and Gaara's head nudge to the front row of desks. A blond tuft of hair poked out from the neck of a grey uniform. He sat still, facing the one-way glass mirror at the front of the room. Hands folded together, pen already clutched between his fingers. We placed ourselves at the back, and weren't the only ones watching the new boy. Every time a body entered, their pace slowed, eyes locking onto the blond. There was no noise, but the tension could be cut with a knife. I wondered if he sensed it - all the eyes piercing the back of his skull. If he did, he didn't let it show.

The lights dimmed when Mr. Baki entered, leaving tiny glows emanating from desk lamps perched at every table. The light reflected ever so slightly off the metal in the tables and walls. I flicked my book open, and waited for him to acknowledge the new member, but he didn't. Today was like every other day, we weren't going to get an introduction.

"Alright, boys. Please turn to page fifty-eight." His features held shadows in the classroom's dim light, but a halo-like glow appeared around him as he flicked a light-switch, illuminating the one-way glass. Gaara's pen creaked between his fingers. Backs straightened behind chairs. Kiba and Lee twitched, it was miniscule, but I noticed the tiny spasm. Baki always received this reaction when the one-way glass lit up to reveal a tiny, white room with two chairs and one wooden desk. His lips twisted into a tiny smirk, and I wondered if he found the response amusing. The only body that didn't flinch was that of the blond boy at the front. "We are going to conduct a practical exercise. We have spent this month learning how to remove yourself through meditation… and how to break someone's attempts to keep Intel contained."

He handed out sheets for note-taking. "Within the field, if you are captured, the enemy will not go easy because you are kids. They will want to know who you work for, and how much you know. And so, all you can hope for is rescue or an easy death." He moved back to the front of the classroom. "And trust me, if you reveal any Intel on this organisation, you'd wish you had chosen death. So we teach you how to keep your mouths shut until you are freed, or die. However, no one will get close to death today. We don't want any incidents like last time. This is a practical, not a test."

Incidents... I peeked sideways, noticing the already pale face beside me turn more translucent. Gaara had spent three weeks in the infirmary after the last 'incident'.

After my parents died, I had nothing but the academy. I couldn't let anything stop me passing that test. Gaara wouldn't be sent on field-missions, anyway, he wasn't built for it, and his smarts would've led him to an office job behind the scenes. So I figured he'd give the Intel easily. Thirty-six hours later, Baki called the test to an end. We both passed, but it took months for Gaara to come close to me again.

"You." Baki finally acknowledged the blond boy. "Have you learned any of this?"

"Probably not. I didn't learn from a curriculum. I've been shown the quickest ways to extract information, though." His voice was raspy, low. My ears prickled. It didn't hold the same lack-lustre tone the rest of ours' did, but still, it felt almost familiar.

Baki nodded. "Very well. Let's see what happens. Get up, you too Uchiha. I need to know what he can do, going against you should give me an indication of what I'm working with." 

He passed me an envelope and ushered us through a door that led to the small, white room.

His face held scars resembling whiskers, and his blond hair feathered his face ever so slightly. The speakers around the room crackled and Baki's voice filled my ears. We could no longer see the class, the mirror now only held our reflections, but they were there, watching our every move. "Sasuke, take a look inside the envelope. They are the words he is attempting to pull from you."

"I'm not quite sure what you want me to do?" The blond boy spoke again.

The speakers crackled. "You have free reign. You weren't here for training, so I just want to see your instincts."

I removed the card from the envelope and read the words, before screwing it up and throwing it over my shoulder. I took a seat at the desk and waited for the walls to open to reveal every tool this boy would want or need. Little shelves removed themselves, and I watched the boy walk over to examine the gifts he'd just been given.

"I'm Naruto, by the way," he said over his shoulder, and my eyes trailed over his body within the uniform. I wondered if it was tight, or if his muscles were just that big beneath the grey material. An assassins son? I wondered how efficiently he'd been trained. He turned, twisting a kunai between his fingers as a six barrelled revolver sat in his other hand. "And you must be Sasuke." He grinned at me then. The gesture held no malice. His cheeks tugged upward, and the blue in his eyes swam like an ocean on his face. "I hope we can be friends."

Friends? What an odd thing to say, especially at a moment like this.

"But that would depend," he continued. "On whether or not you're going to give me those words… because, I know Mr. Baki said there would be no deaths today, but he also said I have free reign, and so if you cooporate, there won't be any body bags needed."

I scoffed. I hadn't revealed Intel since first year. That practical had been to watch infiltration of the psyche. Baki lead the Intel extraction; at eleven, I'd had no hope.

"Oh, come on." His grin slipped into a small smile. "Don't be like that." The kunai swung around his finger by the loop on the end. "This place is pretty cool, you know. It sure beats following my dad around the world. I've been given a proper bed here." He let out a little laugh.

What an idiot. He walked behind me, and I watched his reflection in the one-way mirror. Breath ghosted over my neck when he spoke, sending pin pricks across my shoulders and down my arms. "I'm assuming we're not doing this the easy way, so let's just get started." He grabbed my wrist, placing it against the table. I grunted when the tip of the kunai embedded itself into my hand, through the skin and muscle between the thumb and index finger. I attempted to rip my limb back, but it held tight against the desk where the knife dug into the wood.

I winced, feeling my eyes and lips twitch against the pain, but I didn't make another noise.

"Don't worry." Naruto appeared again. "There'll be no lasting damage. I missed all vital veins, it's just to keep you still." He twisted the gun's barrel, letting six bullets fall and clink against the table. He picked one and showed it to me, before slotting it into a chamber with a little click and spin. "I don't want to kill you, Sasuke, but you're only going to have, at the very most, five chances to give me those words."

He wouldn't.

He couldn't just shoot me on his first day... but then again, I didn't know this boy, maybe he had no qualms in pulling that trigger and ending my life.

He relaxed into the chair opposite mine, gun hanging loosely in one hand as it sat inches from my brain. His head tilted, smile never leaving his face as his eyes scrunched.

He was trying to scare me. Showing force with the kunai meant I'd believe he would pull the trigger. I sniffed out a small laugh, as if I'd be stupid enough to-

Click.

He pulled the trigger and the empty barrel rotated to the next. I blinked. He'd actually pulled it.

"That's, at the very most, four more chances, I suppose, neh, Sasuke?"

My heartbeat echoed. What the fuck? He'd actually pulled the trigger. So did that mean he really didn't care whether he killed me or not? My eyes flicked to the one-way mirror. Baki wouldn't let this happen?

He poked the knife sticking my hand to the desk, and I winced.

"Why won't you speak to me? You haven't said a word the whole time we've been in here." The smile fell from his face, and he bit the corner of his thumb, chewing off a dead piece of skin. "That's all I want. Just a few words. Until after class, then we can be friends."

He really was an idiot. Maybe he was a sociopath… perhaps even a psychopath. We'd learned about those types. If he was one, perhaps he really would shoot me. His eyes still held no malice, but also no fear in shooting a stranger in the head.

"Just a few words, Sasuke… three, two, one."

I sucked in air, but didn't steal my eyes from the gun hanging close to my face. I couldn't show a sign of weakness. I held a passive look against my features, hoping he wouldn't see my resolve wavering. One glimpse of fear, and he'd know I'd break sooner or later. If he thought I wouldn't speak, maybe he'd give up before this went too far.

Click.

I couldn't control the flinch, or the bead of sweat threatening to fall from my hairline. My hand burned as blood rushed to the wound, pooling over the table, drenching my fingers in red.

"You must have great luck. I don't think I've gotten passed the third shot many times." He raised his eyebrows. "Let's see."

Click.

He grinned as my head flew sideways.

"Wow." His eyes held an almost child-like curiosity. "You really are lucky."

He was insane. Shit. Fuck. The bead of sweat fell and my fingers twitched against the red table. He was going to shoot me… but that would be against the whole point of the exercise. The point was to destroy someone's resolve, not just shoot them if they didn't tell you what you wanted to hear. That… that made no sense, because then they'd be dead, and you'd get no information. Maybe he didn't care.

"What did the card say?" he asked. The cold tip of the gun touched me, and my cheeks trembled as it swept across my lips, passed my chin until it sat against my heart. He watched the weapon as it moved across my skin. The intensity shinning within his eyes was immense. His blue orbs now held no sign of light-heartedness. He was readying himself.

All memory of anyone else behind the wall disappeared. A large ball of saliva slid my throat. I'd never live it down if I revealed what was on the card so easily. There was no mental torture, no physical pain apart for the knife in my hand. But if I didn't give him the words, I'd be dead.

Click.

His chuckles filled the room as if I'd just said something amusing. "Oh, my god. Sasuke, I really thought you were going to die that time."

One chance left. Shit. He was right, I was lucky to have gotten so far. What would be worse? Failing… or dying? I didn't fear death, but over a practical… it all felt so unnecessary. Father had wanted me to go out into the world, make a name for myself, just as my brother had. What would he say if he knew I'd died so stupidly?

"Sasuke." Naruto's lips twisted back into a smile. "Please don't let me kill you."

My teeth ground together. I'd never buckle to an idiot like him. My pride wouldn't allow it. I wasn't 'letting' him do anything. We were at a stalemate now. Who would bail first?

"Sasuke." My name came from his mouth in an almost sing-song tone. "I really do think this is your last chance. I've never gone passed the fifth shot before. There'd be no shame in telling me. People are either dead or spilling their guts by now, so I'm impressed."

My teeth creaked under the stress. Was he patronising me? I narrowed my eyes, but they widened again when the gun flew back to my skull.

He sighed. "Hmm, that's disappointing. I'm sorry, really, I am."

His tanned finger moved against the trigger.

"Wait." Fuck. The word appeared before my brain kicked into gear. This was an exercise, for fuck's sake, it wasn't worth my life. If this was a real situation, I'd take the bullet. But I refused to die like this.

"Wait?" His grin widened and the gun lowered to the table. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

My lips moved, letting out a murmur.

"What was that?" he leaned closer.

He had definitely cheated… this wasn't the point of the practical.

"I said," louder than necessary, through gritted teeth. "You win."

He blinked. "I win?"

"It's what the card said, moron."

"Ahh." He stood and turned toward the one-way glass, but twisted halfway to raise the gun back to my face. I flinched when he pulled the trigger twice, before removing a bullet  
from his sleeve. He threw it against the table, and I watched it bounce. "Thank you, Sasuke."

I hated him instantly. His grin, that care-free attitude that radiated from his very core. He hadn't lied. He did expect a friendship, and attempted as soon as the class ended. He followed when I told him to get lost. He always did. I found it incredibly irritating, but Gaara, he found the boy amusing, and it wasn't long before I'd see the two chatting. Naruto gave Gaara tips during circuit training and it wasn't long before Gaara was showing him how to infiltrate firewalls that even NASA couldn't protect against.

"Hey, Sasuke, look," he said once while we sat in Computer tech. Gaara hadn't arrived yet, and I'd already finished my programming for the term. I still had to tweak here and there, but since Naruto hadn't been at the academy very long, he had a lot of coursework to catch up on. "Does this look right?" I twisted my head to view his screen. "Every time I attempt to block the virus, this happens." He clicked a few buttons, and the monitor freaked out. Thousands of tiny numbers and symbols flew across the screen, before the whole thing went blue and cut out. "Ugh," he groaned. "I just don't get it."

"Figure it out yourself," I mumbled, leaning back on my chair. I wasn't helping, in fact, I never even said he could occupy the seat beside me, but that's where he'd plonked himself after the bell for second period rang.

"Gaara would help me," he murmured, resetting the computer to try again.

"I'm not Gaara."

"Hmm, I've noticed." His arms folded across his chest, and I watched from the corner of my eye as his gaze moved to my face. "You're not still sore about that, are you?"

I felt my eyes narrow at my own monitor. I assumed 'that' was him holding an empty gun to my head, letting me think he was some kind of psychopath who was going to kill me. Yes, I was completely still sore about 'that'. I'd re-entered the classroom that day, only to see amusement in my peers' eyes. He'd caught me off guard. I'd failed the exercise. And there was nothing I could've done about it. "No," I said, letting the muscles around my cheekbones soften. I didn't want him to catch onto the fact I was still highly pissed about 'that'.

His chair wheeled closer and his features shifted inches from mine. "You're lying, but that's okay, I heard it took Gaara months to forgive you, so I'll wait."

My shoulders dipped a few centimetres. "He told you about that?"

"Hmm," he hummed. "He said something about you being a hypocrite for being pissed at me, especially after what you did to him." He leaned closer… so close I could feel his breath on me again. "I heard it was a lot worse."

I shoved him away. "That was different. It was a test, failing would've affected my grade at the end of graduation."

"I suppose a grade is worth ripping your friends teeth out, huh?"

My jaw tightened. If Gaara hadn't been so stubborn, it wouldn't have happened. Of course I didn't want to do that. I thought just the idea would scare him into telling me the Intel, especially after the first one slipped from his gum, almost choking him with hot, thick blood. But it didn't. Once I'd told him the plan I couldn't go back on my word. I would've failed instantly.

"Come on, just a little hint."

"Damare, Baka," I said, in one of many languages the school had taught us.

"Watashi mo Nihongo o hanasu koto ga dekimasu… teme."

"Tch. Urusai."

Was he… sulking? His arms folded across his chest, and he turned his face away. Sometimes I wondered how the hell his father had trained him, because he acted like no recruit I'd ever seen before. Not even the younger years acted as childishly as he did sometimes, and it really made me wonder what was wrong with him. He'd come here, acting like a real teenager, and shot to the top of most classes without even trying. It pissed me off to no end. And that smile, I'd never seen someone's face show exactly how they felt as much as Naruto's did… and that pissed me off even more.

That smile invaded his face again, making his whisker-like scars spread farther across his skin. "Gaara," he called when the redhead entered. "Help me, please. Sour-puss here won't." His thumb entered my personal-space as he shot it in my direction.

The redhead didn't say much, just shooed him from the monitor. His pale face lit up as the screen flickered with tiny boxes and lengthy streams of code. He explained what was wrong, and Naruto wrapped his arm around the thin shoulders. Gaara tensed. Physical contact was usually only displayed in combat, and it was evident by the bruises and cuts always littering his pale skin, that he wasn't the best at warding off attacks.

He let go, still grinning, and I saw amusement in those teal eyes. He definitely liked Naruto, Gaara wasn't one to just put up with someone. I stared at the blond-haired-wonder, but I supposed it was hard not to unless you held a grudge. He was so different from everyone else; in looks and demeanour. He was the only normalcy in this place, and that really wasn't anything to preach about, considering what the place was. "So, what're we doing tonight?"

"What do you mean?" Gaara asked, genuinely confused by the question.

"It's Friday. We don't have classes tomorrow, so we have to do something. You know, like get out of here."

"There is no getting out," I said, revelling slightly in the frown I had produced on his usually happy face.

"I haven't been outside since I got here."

"We can't. Not unless your parents come to take you for the weekend."

"What do you mean we can't? I've seen students leave."

"Our generation can't." I specified.

"But why?"

"I suppose it's an experiment." Gaara turned his own computer monitor on and plugged in a few devices he had been working on. "They won't know if it makes us better or worse soldiers until we leave, but they'll compare us to the rest of the generations."

"That's so shit." Naruto paused a moment, finger tapping lightly at a few keys. "So, you can't leave unless your parents come? What happens if they don't?"

"Then you don't leave," I said a little too quickly. I hadn't seen the sky for almost five years. Gaara rarely got to leave. I wondered if that's why we were so pale in comparison to Naruto. I'd always thought he was extremely tanned. But maybe… he was normal, and we were just overly white.

"So you're telling me you've spent almost five years here, training to be undercover agents, and you've never figured out how to get out?" He laughed. "That's the first thing I would've done. I'm not staying underground until we graduate. No way. I refuse."

"There is a way," Gaara said. "There's a couple corridors that the security systems don't reach. I noticed this a few years ago, but I'd never considered leaving."

"Which ones?"

"I don't think any good would come from telling you that. I don't think you realise what they'd do if they found out we'd disobeyed orders. It really isn't worth considering."

"You guys are no fun."

No, perhaps we weren't, but Naruto hadn't been around long enough to know how hard the academy could be. They were more lenient on the younger years, but first generation had learned not to disobey. There was no need for punishment any more, because no one put a foot out of line. Naruto's resolve was strong, I'd learned this during our many classes, but not even he would cope with Konoha punishment. I'd refused once, and only once. So had Gaara. We never refused again.

It would have been snowing outside, I was sure of it. The academy was quieter now. Many children had left for Christmas period. We got two weeks off a year, mainly because families complained about not spending the holidays with their children. Some remained behind. Either their parents were somewhere in the world working, or they had no parents to come pick them up any more. I'd said my goodbyes to Gaara that morning just before his brother arrived to collect him. It was brief, but I'd made the effort.

Just eight more months, and I could also leave, but Konoha Corps would still own me. I trailed my fingers along the Glock 22 sitting in its holder against the wall. This training wasn't cheap, and even though it had not been my decision to enrol, I would still be the one in hundreds of thousands of pounds of debt. And that debt would be paid off mission by mission. But I supposed someone had to do it.

I entered a small cubicle and placed the plastic glasses over my face and thick muffs over my ears. I tucked my black hair away and lifted the gun to head-height. I watched as a tiny hole appeared in the centre square of the target.

My eyes narrowed, focusing on the many targets that littered my view. Finger constantly tightening and releasing around the trigger. I supposed this time of year would've been harder if Father hadn't enrolled me. Maybe if I hadn't been here, I'd feel the pain of losing a family. Many of us had been diagnosed with secondary alexythemia before the first year ended. I still remembered sitting in that pure white room, watching as the nurses entered with clipboards.

I pulled the trigger a few more times, hitting the centre targets effortlessly.

A wall built up so high, even we couldn't get to our emotion any more. That's what she'd said, but I'd just nodded, not really caring, more focused on getting out the infirmary and back into class. All I'd had left was Father's dream for me to be the best. Following a brother who was continuously better. That's why I hated Naruto so much. He'd just entered the academy in our last year, full of laughter, smiles, emotions, and everything came so easily to him. At first I saw him as a rival, but it wasn't long before I could see he was leaving me behind as well. To him, I wouldn't have even been competition.

When a hand wrapped around my shoulder, I jumped and grabbed a large bicep before slamming a body into the cubicle wall. Gun pushing into blond hair as my finger twitched against the trigger, but I didn't relax when I realised who it was. I stood, fixated, as his hands flew up. His mouth opened and closed, but I couldn't hear him through the earmuffs. 

He paused, and looked at the red and black plastic around my head. His eyes gazed into mine, and he moved, ever so slowly, until he removed the cushioned noise blockers. "Hey," he said. "I was just saying that your shooting was impressive." He winced when the gun dug harder into his skull.

I didn't know why I was doing this. I couldn't even rationalise it myself. I guess, I just wanted to see the same look in his eyes that must've shown in mine that day. I wanted him to contemplate death. Perhaps think that there was a chance his life could end, and that decision would be mine. But that look never entered those blue orbs, and that pissed me off again.

"Come on, it's just me," he said, his fingers dug into my hand that wound around the front of his uniform. I wasn't stupid, I knew exactly who it was. "So, just put the gun down."

My eyes narrowed, but I didn't have the chance to pull the trigger even if I had really wanted to. He forced my hand into the air, gun pointing to the ceiling, as his body pushed forward, pinning me to the opposite cubicle wall. "What the hell is your problem?" he shouted. "I've been nothing but nice to you, and all you do is act like this."

"Nothing but nice? Is that what you call threatening to kill me over a stupid exercise."

"For fuck's sake, Sasuke. The gun wasn't even loaded." That made it worse. "You've said it wasn't a test, but it was to me. It was my first day, what do you think would've happened if I'd shown weakness?"

"If I hadn't failed you would've looked weak, and stupid for not having that gun loaded." I struggled against his grip, but he held me tight against the wall.

That playful look enter his eyes before the smile hit his face. "But I knew you'd tell me."

I growled and attempted to lift my knee against his groin, but he forced his body closer into mine to avoid the attack.

"Don't get me wrong, Sasuke. I know I wouldn't get away with it now, but you didn't know me then. For all you knew, I would've killed you, and I assumed no one was stupid enough to risk getting shot over an exercise. Just admit it, you can't stand the fact that someone bested you. That's what all this is about."

"No, shut the fuck up, idiot. You have no idea what you're talking about." Fuck him, and his stupid fucking strength. I wriggled again, but only managed to drop the gun. It clattered against the floor.

"I think I know exactly what I'm talking about. So come on, just admit it."

I gave up struggling. There was no point, he was stronger than me, the muscles underneath his uniform was double the size of my own. I supposed there were advantages to being out in the real world. "It's all I have… had, until you came along and took it away." His grip lightened momentarily, and I took that second to shove him away. "So I'm sorry if I don't want to be all friendly with you, but you took away the only thing I had left.

"I was going to graduate top of the class, I was going to be the best soldier this experiment had created." After the news of Mother and Father's death, it was the only thing keeping me going. I was going to make them proud, and this blond idiot took that away from me. "And then you come along, acting like you don't have a care in the world, and shoot to the top of almost every class without even suffering like we had. It's just… it's just..." I couldn't stop now I'd started, I needed someone to ram something into my mouth to get me to shut up, but that wasn't going to happen. "It's just not fair."

Silence enveloped us, and I sat on a table that a couple of riffles rested against. I ran a hand through my hair, before realising the shooting goggles were still on my face. I ripped them off and threw them across the floor. I hadn't felt this tired in years. I hadn't revealed this much emotion in years, and it had completely worn me out.

His feet padded across the floor, and the table creaked as he sat beside me. "It's okay to be upset," he said, placing his hands into his lap.

"I'm not upset."

He nodded. I wasn't looking at him, but I could sense the movement. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just thought you were annoyed that I'd bested you that time, I didn't think..." He  
shrugged. "Well, I dunno."

"Whatever," I mumbled. "What're you still doing here, anyway? I thought everyone left this morning."

"Hmm," he hummed. "I think this is the most you've ever said to me." I didn't inquire any further when he changed the subject, I just let it happen… let him think I hadn't noticed.

He followed me like a lost puppy after that. If I was in the library, he'd find me and pull out books to read. If I was in target practice, he would enter the cubicle beside. He never entered mine without me knowing of his presence again. I'd see the bullets flying before realising he had found me. It wasn't until the end of that first week that he came to my room for the first time. I had no idea what dorm he had been assigned to, so how he found me was beyond my knowledge. I wondered if Gaara's little hacking lessons were paying off. I'm sure he would've found that information in the system's mainframe. Or perhaps he'd just followed me one night? Either way, I didn't appreciate the intrusion.

"What do you want?" I asked when he knocked and entered.

"Your room looks just like mine," he said, observing the small single bed in one corner and desk covered in books in the other. Of course, no window, we were underground.

"What do you want?" I repeated, sitting up from my bed and closing the book on poisonous plants I'd been memorising. I peered at the clock ticking on the wall. Eight PM.

He shrugged and situated himself at the end of my bed. His grey shirt was half unbuttoned, revealing the top of a tanned chest. "I was bored. There isn't much to do in this place."

"There's plenty to do," I said, lifting the book I'd been engrossed with. I read a few words, before it disappeared from my hands. Naruto looked over the cover, before dropping it to the floor. I sighed. "What do you want from me?"

He shrugged again, but then I saw that childlike glimmer enter his eyes, and I knew it meant trouble. "I've been thinking about what Gaara said before. There's a couple of corridors that the security systems don't reach."

"That doesn't mean we could get out, though," I said, reading his mind.

He nodded. "Gaara said specifically that there was a way out, meaning the lapse in security must be somewhere where we can leave."

"There is no way, with only six months left, that I'm risking getting caught doing anything against the rules."

Naruto fanned a hand. "Rules-smules. If we got out, wouldn't they be more impressed? Plus, I doubt anyone's really paying that much attention right now. There's like, what, ten students in the whole building right now?"

"Even so..."

He moved closer; crawled across the bed until his face was inches from mine. I tilted my head away. "Come on, Sasuke, when was the last time you did anything fun?" He wouldn't be using the word 'fun' if they caught us.

I sighed. "Even if there was a way, I doubt we'd be able to find it. Gaara is a ten-times better hacker-"

"I already have."

"What?"

"Well." He scratched the back of his head. "I've been bored, so I sort of broke into Gaara's room and searched his computer. They were hidden pretty well, but he has blue prints of this whole place. Ways out. Ways in. The lot." He shrugged when my mouth opened, but I couldn't think of anything to say, apart for, what the hell? "I guess they're just in case he ever had to escape? He's smart, he obviously thought it was better safe than sorry."

"It's still a no."

"Please come with me, Sasuke. I'm going either way, so you might as well get some fresh air."

I shook my head. "I can't believe you hacked into Gaara's computer."

"Trust me, it wasn't easy."

I smiled then. The idea of the blond idiot getting through the redhead's protected files amused me. The tugging at my cheeks felt foreign, and Naruto must've mistaken the look for acceptance of his plan, because he grinned back at me. "This is going to be awesome." He stood and looked around the room. "Do you have a coat? Gloves, hat? It's going to be cold outside."

"I'm not coming with you."

"Don't be silly, of course you are." He tugged open the small wardrobe in the corner of the room. "Where's all your clothes?" he asked, flicking through a couple of grey shirts and trousers that hung beside one another.

"They are my clothes." He frowned, so I elaborated. "I haven't stepped foot outside for almost five years, what would I need warmer clothing for? The temperature in this place never changes, so I have no need for them."

"Oh," was all he could say. "Well, that's okay, just put a couple more layers on, I have some clothes you can borrow." And so he left, returning minutes later with a black coat, hat and gloves hanging loosely in his arms. His own blue coat clung to his body, and his hair was covered by an identical black hat. "Get changed," he said when I stared dumbly at the clothing.

I protested a little longer, but I reasoned in my mind that if he went alone, he'd most definitely get caught, and so when he left my room, I followed with a little grumble. I trailed him through the corridors, around hallways and down stair cases. I would never have admitted this to Naruto, but my heart did speed up a little at the prospect of leaving the academy. I wondered what it looked like outside. I remembered the entrance was in a middle of a secured field, but everything else was fuzzy inside my mind's eye.

When Naruto stopped walking, I skidded to a halt, almost crashing into his back as he threw an arm out to keep me stable. He placed a finger over his lips and pointed down a hallway I couldn't see. A door opened, and footsteps floated through the corridor toward us, before disappearing into another room. He grinned, and grabbed my wrist to speed up our pace.

What must we have looked like that night? Two teenage boys stalking the dark corridors, attempting to break free from a school that kept them locked away. In that moment, I forgot about a punishment. I didn't think about getting caught, I just focused on the idea of fresh air... feeling wind on my face. When we came to an old elevator shaft, he paused. "I think this is it," he said, attempting to wiggle his fingers between the gaps.

"This hasn't been used in years," I said. "It's broken."

"Hmm," he hummed. He managed to squeeze between the two metal doors. "Give me a hand."

I pulled one side as he pulled the other. Our heads stuck out into the dark abyss. I peered down, nothing. I tilted my head up, nothing there, either.

"Right," Naruto said, rubbing his hands together. "Now we climb."

"Climb?" I squinted into the darkness, and my eyes adjusted slightly. I could see the roof of the elevator below, and along the opposite wall, sat metal bars criss-crossing one  
another.

Naruto didn't answer. His knees bent, and before I had a chance to realise his plan, he'd jumped, hit the opposite wall and grabbed tightly to one of the bars. It creaked under his weight, but held. He placed a foot on the bar below and shimmied up the wall to give me room to grab hold.

"You're insane," I said.

"Yeah, probably," was his answer. "But I've gotten out of tougher places than this. I was thrown down a well in Russia once… now that was difficult to get out of." His knees bent and hands raised to grab higher bars when he climbed.

Looked easy enough, I supposed. So I followed suit. Climbed to the top of the shaft and held onto Naruto as he let go of the bars to push open the exit. It lifted easily, obviously where the elevator used to leave, and a gust of cold air hit my skin. Naruto climbed onto the grass above and lowered his hand for me to grab hold. I did, and he pulled me to my feet.

My gaze roamed the field. It was dark, it was cold, but it was beautiful. I breathed in, not caring that the frost in the air was stinging my lungs like little needles. I blinked a few times, not believing this was real.

"What're you thinking?" Naruto asked after a while.

I shrugged, mainly because I couldn't pin down one thought before it mixed with another. Childhood memories, my family, my training, they all mingled together, creating a heavy weight in my chest.

"Come on," he said, and before I could protest, he'd wound his fingers around mine. A part of me wanted him to let go. Men didn't hold hands; that was for children and lovers. But another part wanted to keep the warmth. So I allowed it, and followed him as we strolled across the field. He directed us as I lifted my face toward the sky. I didn't remember the stars being so large, but I supposed that may be because I'd come from a city. Or maybe I'd just never paid that much attention. I guessed it wasn't something you thought about when you could see them most nights.

We paused when entering a circle of trees around a lake. The moon hung within the water, waving ever so slightly as ripples danced across the surface. I dipped my finger into the cold liquid and sat against a rock.

"I can't believe we did this," I said mainly to myself when Naruto perched beside me, arms wrapped around himself to huddle some warmth into his body. I was freezing, also, but I didn't care. When was the last time I'd even shivered? I frowned when I remembered.

"You okay?" Naruto asked. "Your frowning."

"I'm just remembering something."

"Doesn't look like anything good by the look on your face."

I shook my head, feeling a little dizzy. "No... the reason I didn't want to come in the first place."

"Oh?"

"Hmm." This time I hummed.

"Do you mind me asking the reason?" I turned my gaze away from the lake and watched the moon now wave in a blue ocean on Naruto's face. His tan was no longer visible, and for a  
moment, I wondered how pale I must've looked.

"There's a reason Gaara is the only person who I consider a… friend. I suppose, we sort of… latched onto each other within our first year." I swallowed. "It was… difficult."  
When I didn't continue, Naruto spoke. "You ripped out half his teeth, beat and humiliated him for thirty-six hours and he forgave you." He nodded. "I know there's some bond stronger between you than meets the eye. I know I act stupid, but I'm not."

I winced at the bluntness in his words, and scrunched my nose even farther when Gaara's screams echoed through my mind. "I didn't want to do those things." I gazed back at the lake, a cloud covered the moon, turning the water into a black hole. "If I failed that test… they make you retake it until you pass. Gaara knew that as well, which is why he didn't give up any information. I suppose… he'd rather it have been by my hand than someone else's. Believe it or not, but if I hadn't done it, it could've been a whole lot worse. They wouldn't have stopped us if they didn't believe it was going too far. Gaara could've suffered for days longer. Some did."

I looked at Naruto, who sat calmly, waiting for me to continue. "During our first week here, we were told we needed to know what it felt like to be shot. And so when they placed the gun into my hand and told me to shoot the 'redhead', I refused. They'd grabbed it from me and gave it to him, he also refused, so they used us as deterrents… subjects within training."

"What do you mean?" Naruto said, voice sounding oh so quiet against the sound of the ripples hitting the lake's edge.

"They don't do it to the younger generations any more, but once or twice a month we would have a special class. They technically called it Resolve Training, but it wasn't. Sort of like Intel Extraction, but one-hundred times worse. They would teach us how to omit enough torture not to kill and how to withstand it. And if you broke the rules, you would be the subject during those classes. By second year, no one put a foot out of line, and so your name would be picked randomly."

"Are you serious? So you and Gaara..."

I nodded. "For most the first year. They calmed it down a bit after losing half the student body within six months, but it still happens. They only permit it within graduation year's  
curriculum now."

"Our year?"

"Yeah, we don't always know when it's going to happen, but after Christmas is usually a safe bet."

He nodded. And I wondered if we thought the same. "It's going to be me, isn't it?"

I didn't say anything. I didn't have to. He was new, he'd have to take it at least once to graduate. He nodded again.

"Naruto, can I ask you something?"

"Sure?"

"You've obviously been trained in the field, so why you here, why now?"

He sighed. "That's a long story, Sasuke. And I'm not sure if it's the right time to go into all of that."

And so we didn't. I didn't pry further. I felt a little put-out after telling him so much, but if it wasn't the right time, then I respected that. I watched the moonlight dance on his skin a little longer. When he looked at me, I turned back toward the lake. We didn't speak much after that; just sat, taking in the sweet smell of frosted grass. I was disappointed when it was time to head back inside, but we couldn't stay out all night. A tiny part of me thought about running away. It technically wasn't a prison, but would they allow that? After one last look at the stars, I descended the elevator shaft.

 

Ugawa  
xx


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. You are all inspiring me to continue. I love hearing your opinions, it really helps me grasp whether I am heading in the right direction. Because, although I love writing fics, there isn't much point to them if the reader isn't getting enjoyment as well.  
> x

A month passes before Kakashi visits.

My leg hangs out the window, dangling above the fire-escape's thin metal. Steam floats from the ground below, and a light breeze plays with my hair. It sways and dances across my cheek, before I tuck it behind my ears. The stars are small in the city. I peer through the bars of the fire-escape and suck the white stick between my fingers. Naruto hates me smoking, but he isn't here now.

The silver-haired man enters the one-room bedsit, and places a large suitcase on the floor beside the bed. "How're you keeping?" he asks, and I take another drag. The cloud leaves my lungs and the night's air grabs and steals it away.

"How is he?" No contact for four weeks. We agreed to let the dust settle; let people begin to forget, before initiating the infiltration mission.

Kakashi, Konoha Corps' second in command. He'd been following Hiruzen's actions over the years, and I trust my old teacher, so when he came asking for my help, I'd agreed.

"He's doing…" Kakashi's words hang in the bedsit's darkness. His dress shirt ruffles against his body as he sits upon the old, worn mattress. "...well, considering."

"Where is he now?"

"He's been given sabbatical leave. We didn't think he was in any condition to work. He didn't argue, just cleared his things and left." Kakashi looks at his hands. There is no light in the room, but the street lamps give a suitable glow. "He's definitely doing better."

My chest aches. Mostly because of the pain I'm causing, but a part of me, that tiny selfish piece that I never got rid of, hates the fact Naruto may be able to carry on without me. I wonder for a moment how quickly he will move on, before flicking the cigarette into the night.

"He moved in with Gaara after being released from the psyche-ward," Kakashi continues.

"What?"

He nods and I step from the window. "That day, Gaara found him. He was on Konoha Corps' Tower's roof. He was going to jump."

The air throbs, and that selfish thought disappears. My mouth waters, and saliva slides my throat. "Gaara convinced him not to?"

"Gaara dragged him from the edge. I don't think there'd be any convincing him at that point. We found them, and I thought it for the best to have him sectioned, just until we knew he wasn't going to harm himself." Thank God for Gaara, even now, after all these years, I could still rely on him. "But, like I said, he's doing much better now. So please don't let that distract you." He flicks open a lock on the suitcase and the zip's screech fills the atmosphere. He pulls out paperwork, photos and a laptop, before placing all these items atop a desk in the corner.

When he points to a man's mugshot, I recognise him. Silver hair hangs behind his ears and that same placid look lingers on his face as usual. "I presume you are familiar with Hidan."

I nod, remembering our first encounter. Naruto and I had been sent to represent Konoha. Yugakure, apparently, wanted to form a peace treaty between the two organisations. But that hadn't exactly been their plan. We were lucky to get out alive. My fingers tighten into fists; I hear the bones creak.

"And Sasori." Of course, I'll never forget a face that looks so similar to Gaara's. "Head of Suna." He was young, but not one to be taken lightly. "From what I can gather, Hiruzen is feeding them information. It was too much of a coincidence, their attacks, their knowledge over our foundation. I don't know what he's getting from it, but he is betraying us. This is why I needed your help, Sasuke. If we can't even trust the Head of Konoha Corps, I don't think there is anyone we can let into our infiltration plan. That is why you had to disappear."

I nod, fingers moving across the paperwork and pictures. I switch on the desk-lamp to aid my vision.

"I knew you wouldn't disappoint me. You and Naruto are the best team we have. But you couldn't both disappear, and I didn't think he would accept the plan to fake his death, which is why it had to be you."

"Thanks..." As if I couldn't feel any worse. But he's right. Naruto wouldn't have done this to me. I'd like to think he would; I have to, otherwise I couldn't contain the guilt. He was always saving my life. I was always his priority, but I prioritized the organisation, and that thought alone makes me feel like a lowlife.

"I need you to collect evidence. As much as you feel necessary, I trust your judgement. We need enough to take him down, if it came from me, there would be suspicion that I was just after his position." The laptop comes to life, and he presses a couple keys to reveal Konoha Corps' mainframe.

This technically should be my first time seeing inside the files. A tiny smile graces my lips, though, as I remember academy days. Gaara poking around the organisation's secrets. "I presume you're familiar with this system?" His one good eye holds amusement, and the smile falls from my lips.

His fingers move across the keyboard, and Konoha's emblem disappears. Thousand of files I've never seen move across the screen. He chuckles. "As if a couple of academy students could hack into Konoha's official mainframe. That one was just a red-herring. It was designed to test your skills." I wonder for a moment if Gaara knows this. He probably does by now. "We need the evidence to be concrete, and we need enough to take him down with one hit. We get one chance at this. If he catches wind, or we fail, we will both disappear for good. Do you understand?"

I nod.

"There's a blocker on this laptop. It's one of Gaara's designs, so it should be stable enough to keep Hiruzen Sarutobi away from your trace. Use whatever you need, and don't rush this. Remember, Sasuke, concrete."

He leaves and I turn my attention to the laptop's screen. One of Gaara's designs, huh? We'd both known he wouldn't enter the field. In fact, as soon as we graduated, he'd been offered a job in Konoha Towers, working on their main computer systems. I always imagined him in his element; designing software. And every now and again, he was mine and Naruto's eyes and ears from the ground.

I flick through a few files, read information, and store it away for later, before stumbling across Konoha Tower's security system. Dates and times are stored within the CCTV section, and for a moment, I dangle the cursor over the date I unofficially died. But I move on, unable to view it. My heart aches to see Naruto, but I can't witness the torture. I can't sit back and watch as realisation of my death sinks into his eyes.

I'd sat and watched him be tortured once before. It was my fault then, and it would be my fault now. I sigh, letting the self-loathing set in, before banishing the thought and moving on.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------  
THREE YEARS EARLIER  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

We didn't leave the academy again.

Gaara returned, signalling the end of Christmas break. He was always the first back, and it didn't take long for the hallways and corridors to spring back to life. I hadn't seen much of Naruto that last week. If I was in the library, he wouldn't find me. When I practiced shooting, he didn't appear in the cubicle beside mine. I tried not to pay much attention to the lack of company. I was used to spending the holidays alone. But I was curious as to why he had dropped off the face of the Earth. All of a sudden, his lost-puppy-like antics stopped.

Gaara skidded across the floor, head crashing into the wall as his grey academy uniform lifted to reveal pale and very small abdominal muscles. He used the surface to raise himself, before buckling back to the ground.

"That's enough," Mr. Gai called. He crossed the gymnasium to grab and pull Gaara to his feet, the young boy winced, but managed to hold his weight steady. "Yes, yes, okay." He let go and the redhead limped back into line.

Kiba smirked, revealing his abnormally sharp canines.

As much as I hated to admit it, the brunet had incredible hand-to-hand combat skills. He'd been a black belt in Karate and Judo before entering the academy. I caught teal eyes, and his head nodded to let me know he was alright. Kiba wasn't a bad sort, in fact, outside Hand-to-Hand Combat, the two occasionally spoke. But in class you did your best. You didn't hold back because your partner was half your weight and held the combat ability of a headless chicken…

Okay, that was a little harsh, maybe just a wingless chicken.

"Next." Gai checked his clipboard. "Naruto, you've never fought Kiba, have you?" It wasn't really a question, and Naruto didn't have to answer. He was already being ushered from the line.

This wasn't my usual combat class. I'd be in weapon's training during this period, but Mr. Kakashi had been promoted to second in command, meaning he'd left the academy for Konoha Corps' Tower.

Naruto moved to the centre floor. One leg swept at an angle and his arms hung loosely beside his tall frame. I already thought he'd be a talented fighter. You didn't get that build from sitting at computers, like Gaara did most the time. No. His muscles flexed in the uniform as he moved. I hadn't realised how intensely I'd been staring at his body, rather than his movements, so I jolted back to reality when a body flew in my direction. Not Kiba's.

Naruto rolled across the sprung floor, body bouncing ever so slightly as he came to a halt. He got to his knees and rubbed at his nose, blue eyes focused onto mine. He grinned and removed the blood from above his lip. But that smile fell as Kiba's claws dug into his shoulders.

Maybe… he wasn't that great at combat.

Later that day, I'd gone to relieve myself, but found Naruto inching closer to his reflection in the toilet's mirror. He slipped a rag under the cold tap, before placing it over the black eye he'd gained from fighting Kiba. No wonder Gaara never stood a chance if even Naruto struggled to defend himself. He winced, dropping the wet material back into the sink and groaned as he touched the cut on his lip.

I leaned against the cold porcelain after washing my hands and peered at the blond. "You look like shit."

"Thanks," he mumbled back.

"No wonder you got yourself thrown down a well if that's how you fight."

He fanned a hand in my direction. "That's not exactly how that happened... My dad threw me."

"What?"

"It's a long story."

Everything about his life seemed to be a 'long story'. In fact, I didn't know much about the blond at all. I knew he trained in the field, and I knew he obviously hadn't suffered in ways we had. But apart for that, I had no clue. I thought of the lake, still feeling stupid about giving so much personal information, but I reasoned that he'd thrown me off guard, again. After five years cooped up in this place, I supposed I wasn't exactly acting myself.

The week apart from him cleared my mind, I wouldn't be indulging him with stories of my past again. I preferred not to know too much about people. It was easier to disconnect that way. You never knew when you'd have to do something you'd regret. It was hard enough with Gaara, and I didn't want to have that type of guilt etched onto my soul again.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"You're frowning."

"I'm not."

He placed the wet rag against his lip. "Why do you always do that? Pretend you're okay when you're clearly not."

"I'm not the one with a smashed up face."

He laughed then, and turned his attention back to his reflection. "Well, I can't argue with that."

I wasn't sure why I wanted to ask. Usually I'd leave it alone. I was never ruled by my curiosity and I was completely sure that I didn't care, anyway. But… after that night in front of the lake, he'd just disappeared. Even with Gaara back, he wasn't his usual self. Sometimes I'd wonder if he would follow me from class, or show up somewhere uninvited, but he didn't. It would be different if I knew why, but I had no idea what had changed. In fact, after telling him bits about my past, I thought he would become more clingy. A tiny part of me… sort of wanted that.

"Where did you..." I rolled the words over in my mind, but I couldn't think how to put it tactfully. His eyes moved within the reflection to look at me. "Never mind." I turned to leave, but his voice stopped me.

"Where did I go during the holidays?" He grinned then, but winced when the cut on his lip split. "Why, did you miss me?"

"Hardly." I scoffed.

"I was studying."

"Yeah, right." I didn't see him at the library after that first week, and I doubted he was the type to sit and study by himself.

"No, I really was." He sighed and mopped at the trickle of blood dribbling from the newly opened cut. "After our conversation that night, I wanted to know what that kind of training involved. I knew if I saw you I'd ask, and I didn't want you to relive it. I guess, I just wanted to know what I had to look forward to."

"Did you manage to find anything?"

His fingers dabbed at the blood. Lips, chapped, broken. And a weight fell into my chest as I banished images of past training. But I knew I was being selfish, it wasn't me who would have to face it. Not yet, anyway. I'd already executed and passed one half of my test. I still had to prove that I could hold my tongue under forceful interrogation. The exercise during   
Intel Extraction didn't count. That wasn't a test, I could fail without repercussions, and I'd known that when Naruto had raised the gun to my head that last time. It was more my pride I was failing.

I couldn't stand watching him dabbing so forcefully at the broken skin, so I grabbed the rag and rested it gently against his lip. "You need to hold it still," I said when he looked a little confused. I almost dropped the cloth when his breath ghosted over my fingers.

"Bits and pieces," he said. "I can understand they want you to know what you're getting into, and they're probably right, your first experience shouldn't be when you're actually on a mission." His tanned hand rested against mine. "But, I'm sure that didn't make it any easier." He removed my fingers from his face, but didn't let my hand go. "Dad always said, he'd rather I die than get captured. He had a contract to take out a corrupted government official, that's why we were in Russia. When they closed in, he threw me down that well. If I died, I wouldn't suffer. If I lived, he knew I'd find a way to escape."

"What happened?" I hadn't meant for the words to come out so quietly, but they did. I'm sure the sound didn't even reach the tiled walls.

"Well, I didn't die, as you can tell. But I never saw him again."

I didn't know why I didn't pull my hand away. I just left it, hanging in the air with his. It was stupid really, looking back to that moment. How I hadn't quite grasped the concept of what I felt toward the blond boy who stood so intensely in front of me. I'd never considered those types of feelings, so when they came into play, I didn't quite know what they were. I just knew they made me feel unwell. Sometimes flushed when he moved too close, sometimes dizzy when I caught his scent. And at some point, I found myself wondering if he felt the same.

His skin cleared pretty quickly. Less than a week and his face held nothing but his natural tan. I considered if perhaps he had great genetics. And after that, I found myself around him more often. Sometimes, even I sought him out. I didn't ask any more about his family. I left the subject alone. He'd never asked about mine, so I gave him the same courtesy.

The weeks rolled by, and I speculated whether it was getting warmer outside. The younger generations no longer wrapped up so tightly when they headed for the exit, and it made me think back to that lake. How comforting it must be to sit around in the sun. Sometimes, I found myself wondering if that's where they went at weekends when they left the building. At the time, it had felt like just mine and Naruto's spot. But the place was probably occupied quite frequently.

At one point, as it became close to Easter, I let myself consider that maybe, just maybe, we would not get one last 'Special Class'. I let myself hope, and I think Naruto may have hoped the same. But one evening, while heading back to my dorm room, I found Gaara loitering in the hallway. His teal eyes didn't find my face at first, he just held his gaze steady at the wall, but I knew he'd been waiting for me. Why else would he be standing in this wing? His room wasn't close enough to warrant his intrusion in the area.

He didn't speak, just held out a letter. If it was possible for your blood to turn to ice, that would've happened. My whole body froze, feeling as if I were back outside in the cold air. The back of the envelope held his name, but it hadn't been opened yet. There was no need. We knew what it was.

I found my own on my bedroom floor. My name, written neatly in cursive. I wondered if wedding invitations held the same beautiful writing, perhaps to any other boy our age this could be mistaken for an invitation to a party.

I slid my nail into the top and ripped it. It was an invitation, but not one you'd ever want to receive. My head swam as I read the words, and the piece of paper scrunched between my fingers. All classes were cancelled next week, and we were to report to Block A. In our first year, we'd nick-named it The Chamber. It occupied the lowest level of the building, and there was only ever one reason to be there.

I didn't see Naruto that weekend. I was torn in two halves, wanting to see him and not. A part of me wanted to try say something encouraging, but another part, my more logical side, knew there was nothing I could say. And so, when Monday arrived, and I made my way through the corridor, I hoped not to see his face. I didn't even notice when Gaara appeared at my side, but as I turned a corner, there he stood. Younger generations gawked and whispered. But this time, it wasn't because two first generation students walked together. Word had floated around the academy. This week we wouldn't be occupying the higher tech classrooms. This week, we'd be in The Chamber.

The room was as I remembered. Dark crimson splattered the walls. You could tell the blood had been scrubbed, but there was no getting rid of the stains. Mixed between the different shades, I knew my own still hung on the walls. A permanent reminder. I placed myself at a desk and Gaara slipped into the seat beside. Danzo stood at the front, watching the classroom fill. Behind the man, the metal walls mingled into bricks. Chains hung from the ceiling, and a rusted drain embedded itself into the floor. Weapons and contraptions sat on shelves, and the only light source came from the front. Bright lamps rested in the metal, pointing at the separated brick hole.

Naruto dropped into the seat on the other side of me, but he didn't speak. He didn't say a word as he took everything in. He appeared like every other teenage boy in the room. Unrested, unsettled. And I wished I could read his mind. Perhaps then, I'd know what to say.

A heavy thud echoed off the walls as the metal door closed with the last student, and Danzo surveyed each of us. Did he receive sick pleasure by witnessing fear in our eyes? We'd been taught to hide all emotion if we wielded it. But we were still teenagers, and even if we thought no effect enveloped our features, I bet it did. It may have been minuscule, but 

I'm sure he could see the anxiety. How could he not?

He read from a sheet - the same words he always read. "Everything that takes place within this room is for educational purposes only. There will be no permanent damage inflicted onto the body." I always noted how they left out emotional. "All activity will cease if any signs of death occur. Konoha Corporation is not held responsible for any accidents, untimely deaths or mental damage." He lifted a bag, and backs stiffened. A pencil snapped somewhere within the room. "And since we have no punishments to execute, I shall pick a name at random."

At random?

I would've put money on Danzo choosing Naruto.

Hell. Naruto would've put money on Danzo choosing Naruto.

He circled a hand within the material and plucked a name. "Uchiha."

What? My fingers gripped at the table. Not again. Maybe they knew. Maybe they knew I'd left the building. But he'd said no punishments. So why me? I didn't move at first. I wasn't quite sure how long I'd remained still, but it was long enough for Danzo to call my name again.

"I volunteer." Naruto's hand raised, and my head shot in his direction.

"Naruto," I whispered. I didn't want him to suffer, either. I grabbed his arm when he stood. "Don't be stupid," I hissed, standing myself. "Sit down."

"You volunteer?" No one ever volunteered for this.

"I haven't experienced this training before, sir, so I volunteer to take Sasuke's place."

"What's your name, boy?" Danzo asked, picking up a clipboard, he flicked through a few sheets that hung to the thin wood until Naruto gave him an answer. "Ah, yes, I didn't think I recognised you. We have no disclaimer for you, so I can't use you as a subject."

"I could sign one?"

"Don't be ridiculous. We need your parents to sign one, but it doesn't look like they have."

Naruto wiggled his arm from my grasp, and I found myself lowering back to my chair. "My parents are dead."

"Then we need your next of kin; whoever enrolled you. No means no. Sasuke, front and centre."

"I don't have a next of kin. I enrolled myself."

Danzo's eyebrows lifted, and everyone stared. He had enrolled himself? But why? And most of all, why was he now arguing his case to be a subject? A part of me wondered if he'd do the same if anyone else's name had been pulled. I hoped he would've, because the thought of him taking my place just because it was me, made me want to slap him for being so stupid. I knew I should've argued back. I should've stopped him. But perhaps I was weak. I was much weaker than I'd always made out. I'd never wanted to admit it, but when it came to the blond boy, I was becoming weaker and weaker as time passed.

Danzo let out a tutting noise that filled the air, but Naruto remained on his feet. Credit where credit was due, he was either a better man than me, or a complete idiot. I'd let him come to his own conclusion. "Very well." He thrust paper in his direction, and Naruto signed. He didn't even read the thing, just picked up a pen and autographed it.

"It's okay." His voice was quiet. His words reached no farther than myself and Gaara. "I'm a lot tougher than I look."

I said nothing. I could only shake my head in disbelief as he followed Danzo. He faced the class, and I couldn't read his expression as his eyes remained locked onto mine. Guilt punched its way into my gut, getting stronger with every second that gaze held me. That should've been me standing there. I hated myself for it, but even through all the guilt, I was still glad it wasn't.

"This week, we are going to learn the different ways to break someone without killing them. We have done this many times before, but since this is our last lesson on the subject before graduation, it will be slightly different." He gestured to Naruto, and those blue orbs left my direction to turn to the older man. "We usually only let this last the day, but in the real world, it is unlikely that anyone will give up Intel within only a few hours, and so, there will be no Intel." He spoke only to Naruto now. "We usually give a student fake information, and by the end of the class, they are able to give it to me to indicate the end. However, as I said, it is unlikely that anyone would fold so easily." Danzo gestured toward the bricked area and he placed a hand on Naruto's back to guide him forward.

His voice was louder now so the rest of us could hear. "There is no Intel, so the training will not end until the week is up. I will be showing you different ways to break a resolve. Remember, you do not actually want your prisoner dead. You want him broken." His wrinkled fingers reached to grab the metal cuffs, and I could do nothing but watch as he asked for Naruto's hands. They locked into place, leaving the blond boy standing with his arms raised.

Danzo tugged at a pulley on the wall, and Naruto's body lifted. The tip of his shoes scuffed against bricks as he attempted to stay on his toes. His face fell placid, that usual tan flushed white underneath the bright lights, and his eyes found mine one last time before a bag covered his head.

It took two days for the first student to vomit.

And as the stench filled the air, it only took five more minutes for the next to release their stomach contents against the metal floor. Gaara doubled over in his chair, wiping his mouth as he heaved again, but I didn't think there was anything left to escape. He coughed. I was wrong. He gagged, opening his mouth again as bile splattered against his leg. "Don't even fucking think about asking if I'm okay," he gagged out through gasps of air. He'd seen my face, but the horror embedded into my eyes wasn't for him.

Naruto's feet no longer touched the floor, and with his chin against his chest, I didn't even know if he was conscious any more.

"If you take a look at his shoulders, you will see that the weight hanging against them has dislocated the arm. So be careful, that is always a risk. Do not levitate the prisoner by his hands if you need him to use his arms later." He continued, ignoring the earlier vomiting students. "You also have the option to hang them upside down, but they will lose   
consciousness quicker. You also run the risk of death from popped blood vessels in the brain."

Naruto's chin rubbed against his collarbone. He woke. His chest and abs held large, black bruises where Danzo had shown us where we could and couldn't hit so hard, and what materials made the least and most damage. Danzo ripped the bag from Naruto's head, and the boys eyes snapped shut against the brightness. One blue eye peeked open ever so slightly, and it blinked against the harsh lights. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and sweat pooled from his skin. He grunted when his body hit the bricks. He didn't attempt to sit, just laid against the cold floor, cuffed hands against his chest.

"As you can observe," Danzo moved from the wall where he'd just untied the pulley. "By this point, the captive will be physically weakened. But remember the rule of three. Three weeks without food. Three days without water. Three minutes without air. At the very most."

The teacher curled one hand around the bruised bicep and the other at the tip of the dislocated shoulder. The crack made my mouth water, but it was Naruto's scream that almost made me puke.

My teeth grit together. My hands shook against the table. But there was nothing I could do. He had volunteered. He'd taken my place. And all I could do was sit and watch, and what? Take notes as Naruto suffered. Only a couple more months, and we'd be out this place. I promised, no I swore on my parents' graves, that I would make this up to him.  
It took four days for the first begs to leave Naruto's mouth.

His arms hung behind his back as he kneeled against the floor. Now in just his boxers, the blood from his knees ran across the cracks in the bricks. I could see in detail every gash, every bruise. I'd hated myself for being so weak, so helpless. So that third day, when I'd entered the classroom, I'd sat myself at the front. I meant it as some form of respect. I'd sit, and I'd watch everything that the blond endured. It was the least I could do. And on that forth day, when his mouth moved for the first time to form a word instead of screams, I thought no less of him. Nothing, at that point, could make me feel anything but respect.

"Please," he whispered, voice breaking as if he'd swallowed sandpaper. "Please... no more."

"By this stage-" By this stage I wanted to shove a knife through the man's chest. "-the captive will begin to break. Sometimes it is a little quicker, other times it takes longer. But the body can only take so much before the mind begins to waver." The blindfold that had been around his face all day was removed, but Naruto didn't raise his head. It wasn't until Danzo grabbed blond hair and lifted him in a kneeling position that I saw those blue eyes. A small trail of saliva hung against his chin and his body dipped and rose as he breathed through his mouth. "Usually it would be quicker than this. Because, although these are all techniques you will use in the future, this is still a classroom environment. He knows he isn't going to die. He knows when this is over he can go back to his normal life, and so, his resolve will naturally last longer than if he were in a real life situation. This is just to show you the real responses of the human body under stress."

The older man grabbed the glass of water that sat in front of Sai and brought it to the blond. He held it up and Naruto drank. The gulps echoed around the room and he choked, before gasping for air. "That should be enough now." He placed the empty glass on my desk, red lip marks trailed across the rim. He smacked the already bruised cheek. Two black eyes tightened together. "Do you understand?"

Naruto didn't reply.

"Do you want this to be over?"

He nodded.

"I can't hear you, boy. Tell me what you want, we could carry on."

Naruto's eyes blink then and his head nodded vigorously. I wondered where he'd gained the strength. I sighed in relief. Finishing a day early. Perhaps even Danzo knew this was going too far. Almost no skin held his natural tan. It didn't even hold the white that the bright lights were inflicting. Black, blue, purple. They were the only colours now coasting across his flesh.

"Speak. I need to know how much you want this to be over."

"Please," he breathed. "Please, please."

The cuffs fell from his wrists as Danzo released him, and his arms moved to the front of his body. Fingers stretching as he fell to his bum so he could sit properly for the first time in four days. "Thank you," he whispered through white, chapped lips. His eyes glistened with tears. I could only imagine they were of relief. I'd take him straight to the infirmary. I itched to stand and grab him, but being dismissed weren't the next words out Danzo's mouth.

"This is a critical stage," he said instead. "Their resolve is near broken. Please take note of this, it is very important. You now need to do or say whatever you can to create relief. It is easier to remain quiet if their stress levels never change. Give them a break, treat them like a human being, make them believe it is almost over." He looked down at Naruto, and even my resolve almost broke when I realised what the man was saying. I think it took Naruto a little longer to understand, but I knew when he did.

The liquid fell from his eyes and he sobbed. I'd never seen someone so… Gaara and I had struggled to cope with a couple hours, but Naruto, he'd suffered for almost four full days without a moments respite. I couldn't envisage what I'd be like at this point. A quivering mess, no doubt.

"It is up to you how long you let this relief last. But for classroom purposes, since we only have one day left, I am showing you what only a quick moment of relief can create. Please stand."

Naruto's head shook, he sobbed, and begged and sobbed some more. I didn't want to watch. With every fibre of my being, I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. I wouldn't let a second of his suffering go unnoticed. I'd hold on to this and remember. Remember what he'd done for me. There was no shame in his actions. He was a sixteen-year-old boy. Compared to our parents and teachers, we were still kids. At that moment, I questioned if they'd done the right thing by starting this program. No curriculum could ready a child for this type of torture. Naruto's father had been right. Any of us would be better off dead than captured. From what I'd learned, you wind up dead, anyway.

I wanted to beg with him. I wanted to get on my knees and beg Danzo to stop this, but I didn't, and he wouldn't, anyway. With only one day left, what more could be shown? Was there anything more he could do? He'd already beaten, half drowned, starved, dehydrated, humiliated and broken the boy. His skin was almost black, his legs were raw from dried urine, his hair stuck to his face. Really, what more was there? Did we really have to see what one more day would do to him?

"Stand up," Danzo repeated, and slowly, Naruto attempted to raise himself to his feet. But he failed, falling forward and landing in a heap in front of my desk. He got to his knees, looked up, probably noticing me for the first time in days now he was no longer under that bright light. But a grin didn't emerge as it had the day Kiba knocked him to the floor. He just blinked, and so did I. Because, really, there was nothing I could do or say.

"Come on." Danzo slipped a hand underneath the blond's arm and helped him to his feet. But he knew Naruto wouldn't have been strong enough to hold his own body weight, so he pulled an unoccupied chair from a desk and placed it in the middle of the bricked floor. He dumped the boy down and covered his wrists behind his back with the now red cuffs. 

Naruto's head fell, and I watched drops of water hitting the raw skin on his knees.

"If you are taken prisoner, and they have gotten to the stage where they are being kind to you, then you better pray you're found very soon." Danzo raised his voice to cloak the sobs escaping the blond's mouth. "It is at this point, things will get harder. If they have not already, you can expect forms of body modification. Limbs cut or ripped off." Naruto's body shook harder against the chains. "Rape, and types of humiliation you can not even fathom. But, of course, all forms of interrogation are different." He placed his hand against Naruto's greasy hair. The boy didn't flinch when those fingers made contact. "Since this is for educational purposes, I am only showing the basic forms of torture that you will encounter. In the real world, anything that comes to mind can and will happen."

"Tomorrow, since it will be our last day, I will show you the effects on the body once extreme pain has been inflicted." His hand moved, wiggling the head underneath his digits. "Did you hear that, that's what we'll be doing tomorrow. Understand?"

Naruto's head shook at its own accord now. His muscles tightened and relaxed, stretching out the cuts, bruises and grazes. "Please," he whispered again, through gasps of air. His body still attempted to cry, but I doubted he had any hydration left to allow the waste of moisture.

"Please what?" Was Danzo enjoying this? That thought made me want to puke, but his face held no amusement. It was as placid as always. Perhaps to him, this really was just for educational purposes. Maybe, he had premeditated every action coming from the blond, knowing exactly what to do and say to get the reaction he wanted. How many times had he done this before… how much harsher could he be? Perhaps to him, this was child's play.

"No more," Naruto whispered. "I can't..." His voice held nothing of its usual tone. If I hadn't been looking at him, I wouldn't have even said I recognised it. "I'll… I'll do anything."

Danzo ignored the boy's whispers, and instead, walked to a wall that held shelves covered in tools. He plucked a tazor and a pair of pliers from different areas. "Don't eat heavy breakfasts in the morning. I don't want any more puke on this floor, the place smells bad enough." He lifted the tazor and Naruto's eyes widened as he flinched back in the chair. "This," he said to the class. "Holds enough watts to paralyse your subject, but not kill. When attempting to use electricity, you must know how much you are inflicting onto the body. Too much will kill."

The object sparked, and he touched it to Naruto's skin. His body tensed, every muscle going into spasm as he jolted. His head bobbed back, jaw gritting together as drowned gags left his throat. It stopped momentarily as Danzo heightened the intensity. Naruto screamed this time. His voice bounced around the walls, and the smell of burning flesh crept under my nose. His hair stood, his legs and arms twisted and the screams turned to moans as the tazor was retracted. His head fell. Chin hitting against his chest as a yellow puddle crept across the chair, down his legs and between the cracks in the bricks.

Danzo slapped his cheek. "Wake up."

Naruto groaned, head falling to the side.

His fingers curled into Naruto's hair, pulling it to lift his head and the boy's eyes widened again as a pair of pliers entered his mouth.

"Teeth extraction is another form of interrogation that you find common, that and nail extraction."

Naruto's muffled screams reminded me of Gaara. I couldn't see the redhead's face, but I knew the terror that would currently be held within his teal eyes. The academy had replaced the teeth, but I doubted the pain would ever be forgotten.

The pliers removed from his mouth, and I released a breath. No teeth came with it. The scream died, transforming into a mild crackles.

"I'm assuming you don't want this to happen?"

Naruto's head shook. It looked as if he were struggling to breathe, but at closer inspection, it seemed too much air invaded his lungs. His chest shot up and down in little bursts.

"Okay." He lifted the rusting, metal pliers back to Naruto's face. I watched the tool touch his skin, sweep his chin, and tap against his shoulder. "I'm going to ask you a few   
questions, and if you answer truthfully, I will dismiss you, do you understand?"

Naruto's eyes raised to the older man's face. Did he believe him? I doubted it. But what choice did he have? Any hope of ending the class was worth a chance.

"I know when someone is lying to me, boy. And if I even get a slight suspicion that you are, then we shall continue this tomorrow." He tapped the pliers against the bruised shoulder again, letting Naruto contemplate what he would have to endure. "Do you understand?"

"I'll tell you anything, just please..."

"Very well."

Naruto squinted when Danzo twisted the light hanging from the wall. It hit the boy's face directly, lighting up every wrinkle, every bruise, every cut embedded into his flesh. The black skin underneath his eyes sagged, and he struggled to keep them open. They found their way to my direction. I doubted he could see me, sitting behind the light, but he sought me out anyway.

"What do you fear most in this world? I want to hear something you've never told anyone. I want it to be real."

Naruto's head fell, chest still rising and falling with each breath. "I…"

"Or would you rather stay?"

"To be alone. I… I don't want to be alone." No embarrassment flooded his words. He'd said it so matter-of-factly, as if he didn't care what he'd said and who heard.

Danzo stepped forward, obviously believing the words leaving Naruto's mouth, because he continued. "I am just curious now. Why did you enrol into this program yourself?"

He peeked up now, but he didn't turn to face his interrogator. He looked in my direction again. "Same... reason." He breathed.

"Because you didn't want to be alone?" He grabbed the boy's chin and twisted his head, creating a wince from the broken face. "No. Don't look at him. Look at me. Why do you keep looking at him, do you have some sort of infatuation with Uchiha? And that question is not rhetorical."

"No… I… I know him."

"Of course you know him."

"No… I mean… I meant, I knew him before. Before the academy. We were… I knew his parents."

This time my breath caught in my throat. He what? How the hell did he know me? I didn't realise my eyes had widened until they shrank to their usual state.

"Is that why you took his place?" This wasn't interrogation anymore, I believed the older man was genuinely curious, and knew he'd get the real answer.

"No..."

"Are you lying to me now?"

Naruto head attempted to shake, but the blemishes on his chin turned white as the man squeezed. "No, no, I don't know." His teeth momentarily grit together, and his pupils dotted around the man's face like little pin-pricks on a plate. "I just, I couldn't. I couldn't watch this happen to, to..."

"To him?"

"...Please… can I go now?"

Danzo clicked his tongue and released the face he was dragging in his direction. "Yes, I suppose that's far enough. And as you can see, if you implement these forms of stress on the body and psyche, there will eventually be a moment when you can get whatever information you want." He collected his papers. "They will do whatever you ask. Sometimes..." He headed for the metal door, a quivering look of disgust hanging in his eyes, and I wondered if that was held for himself. "...they don't even realising their doing it. You're all dismissed. Including him. Someone take him to the infirmary."


	3. Chapter 3

My arms dangle behind me, fingers tentatively picking at cuffs while the long haired idiot spouts shit in his mother-tongue. His leather jacket hugs his toned torso, and for a millisecond, I consider taking it with me. I grip the metal restraints before they clatter against the floor and clock the guns hanging in holsters at either side of my ears.

His blond hair reminds me of Naruto, but it's darker, and much, much longer. He grins, hand forming a fist before sinking into my gut. Air escapes my lungs, and his goons grab my shoulders so I don't topple backwards over the chair.

"Anata wa kashikoi shite iru to omoimasu ka."

"Iie." I grunt.

Music and laughter drifts in the air from the casino below as the door opens. It swings back, muffling the noise as it closes. Plush, leather sofas sit around the room, and beautifully crafted paintings of geisha hang upon the black walls.

His hand is small and feminine, but his strength is not. And when those soft, tanned fingers sweep across my cheek, my lips turn in disgust. They play with my hair, before tugging on it playfully. "Hmm, Menma." He only knows the name my fake ID holds. "Such a beautiful piece of art." I force my face away and he lets go.

Deidara relaxes into the sofa, one arm hanging over the backrest, and a very slim, black haired woman holds a tray and bows as the Mafia boss takes the sake. I have no respect for these types. Using fear and money to climb their way to the top; they have no idea what respect and loyalty is. Not many have any training, just a shit-ton of fire-power.

"Menma," he says again in his Japanese accent. "So arrogant. Thinking you can take down the Akatsuki with a one-man-cell." Chuckles ooze from his throat. I'd been trailing them for weeks, collecting enough Intel to get caught. It almost disappoints me how easy this is. They hold no morals, no idea how this world works. Their ability to lead goes no further than holding a gun. Japan's most notorious crime-ring. It's pathetic. "It is a shame, but art isn't built to last." He takes a sip from his crystal tumbler, and his pointed eyes narrow over the rim.

"Kill him."

I drop the cuffs, grab the guns from the goon's waistbands and press the trigger. One, two, three, four, five, six bodies hit the floor as the room lights up like fireworks. Before they even breathe, they're dead.

I stand, gun pointing toward that blond hair. "Oi, chotto matte." His hands wave. Coward. No respect for themselves either. They have no idea what real suffering is. "I'll give you anything you want. Just don't-" He doesn't finish. His body sinks on the sofa, blood gushing from the bullet-hole in his head.

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Naruto loves watching those secret-agent films. I couldn't quite understand it myself, how we'd get home from a three week mission, having escaped death once again, why he'd want to stick the TV on and watch the latest Mission Impossible film or True Lies or Mr And Mrs Smith, or whatever crap littered the screen. They were unrealistic, especially the locations they chose to exchange information. I mean, come on, who would go to the docks, or a park bench, or whichever place the directors had decided.

You'd go somewhere public. Somewhere that held so many bodies, you wouldn't exists in anyone's memory. That's why I'm currently standing at a bar, waiting. At least I don't stick out here. My parents being Japanese in origin meant even though I'd lived in America my whole life, I looked at home in this part of the world. I think of Naruto and how much he'd stand out with his extravagant blond hair and bright blue eyes. I don't think anyone could be more Western if they tried.

A group of girls sidle up to me and attempt a conversation, but I fob them off with some line about being tired and wanting to drink alone. They don't fuss, unlike American girls, just bow and move on.

A bartender reaches me, sweeps long hair behind her shoulders and asks what I'd like to order.

"Beeru Kudasai," I shout over the thumping bass. I have no intention of consuming the alcoholic beverage, but I hold it to look in place.

It isn't until a body catches my eye that I turn from the bar, leaving the sticky surface to follow the man into a booth. I slide onto the cushioned chair and the man lowers his hood to reveal orange locks. He isn't Asian born, but holds an accent as he speaks in English. With music and intoxication flooding people's brains, it's unlikely anyone will grasp what we say quick enough to keep up with the conversation, even if they did speak English.

I place the silver ring with the blue gem on the table and push it against the wood. Juugo grips it between his fingers and observes the splash of dried blood. He nods. "Very impressive," he says. "Less than two months, and you've managed to pull off what we have not in three years. Taka thanks you."

"I didn't do it for your gratitude," I say. I have even less respect for him. Hiring an outsider to do your dirty work when your inner circles should be skilled enough to finish the job. I found that more pitiful. It had taken four months to track Juugo. Ex-Suna turned Mafia boss. I supposed with his training he could've done it himself, but I suspected having that blood on their hands would leave bad press in the underworld scene.

"No." A packet of cigarettes emerge from his pocket and he guides it across the table. I flick the top open with my thumb. Inside, folded paperwork, blue-prints, computer chips and a memory stick.

"This had better be legit." I pocket the packet and leave.

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I pin sheets of paper to my note board and connect blueprints to pictures I've taken. The sun sets, leaving a light chill in the air, so I move across the dark room and shut the window. My laptop screen gives adequate lighting, and the kettle whistles as water boils. I've been in Japan for half a year, and slowly, I'm collecting enough sources to infiltrate Suna. I'm certain I'll find something on their mainframe systems, but I can't get to it from the outside. I have to be within the building, and setting that up takes time. A member of Konoha cannot just walk into Suna. I think back to Naruto's younger body hanging in The Chamber at the academy. If they caught me, I would suffer much worse. I hold something they want. Secrets. Intel on Konoha.

I pour scolding water into an instant Ramen pot with popular ninja anime characters on the label, and stir the cardboard-like pieces. This is the type of crap he indulges on, and I wonder if he'd enjoy the noodles better than I do. Waiting for the water to absorb, I lift a cigarette to my lips, before letting a small smile grace my face. Naruto's reaction the first time I'd come home stinking of the stuff had been… interesting.

I'd cleared a particularly difficult mission that day, and before going home, Asuma had extended one to me as I'd sat over the edge of Konoha Corps' Tower. Naruto always knew to find me there, looking out over the city.

I pause, maybe that's when my death had sunk in, when he hadn't found me leaning against the side.

The artificial light in the room flickers, and my attention falls to the laptop's screen. Little boxes pop, and I press a few buttons, but I'm no longer in control of the machine. I frown, press a few more keys in hopes to rectify the problem. Maybe the program has malfunctioned. The screen flashes again. Another box appears, and a tiny typing line blinks before  
words type themselves out.

~Who is this?...l

I stare, stump the cigarette into a cup of old water and wait.

~How do you have this software, it hasn't been released yet?... l

If Kakashi has given me unreleased software, then it can only be one person. The designer.

~An ally...l - Is all I type back. I watch as that little line blinks, before more words appear.

~There's an issue with the program. I've been working on it... l - The line pauses for a moment, before moving again. ~Who is this?...l

The smell of noodles float through the apartment, and I toy with the idea of telling the truth, but I don't. 

~I'm affiliated with Konoha, do not worry, Gaara...l 

I regret using his name, but I can't take the words back, they appear instantly on both sides.

The little red light beside the camera clicks on. I fall to the ground. Damn him. He's hacked into the laptops cam. I glance up from the floor, and another box appears. Gaara's face materializes. His skin no longer contains the cuts and bruises it did during academy years, but he's just as pale and probably a little thinner. Always working in an office means there's no urgency for the muscle that I need to conduct missions on a day-to-day basis.

"Who is this," his deep voice echoes throughout the silent apartment. "How do you have this software?"

I watch his face, or more importantly, his eyes, as they trail around the room. I hope the dim light stilts his view, but when he catches sight of something, he stands, face moving closer to his own screen. I let out a couple of silent offensive words.

A photo frame. The one thing I'd brought with me. A picture of Naruto. He's seen it, I know he has, and when he moves to sit back into his chair, I regret not slamming the screen shut the moment the red light had appeared.

"If this is who I think it is..." He pauses before his sentence changes course. "Just let me see you."

I don't move.

"I'm not at Konoha."

I remain still, back now leaning against the desk's hard wood.

"He isn't here..." When I still don't reply, he continues. "Okay… if it is you, and you can get back to the country, meet me where he took us graduation night. In three days, I'll be there at midnight…" His hand raises to disconnect the feed, but he speaks again before the screen turns black. "Get rid of the laptop, the software is corrupted. It's traceable."

I don't rise until Gaara disappears. I lean across the side of the desk and slam it shut. Fuck.

No one can know I'm alive, but Gaara isn't stupid, and perhaps it's best to confront him before he mentions this to anyone.

I dump the laptop into the nearest river and catch the first flight back to America.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hide my face from street lamps with a hood. I haven't been in this area since the three of us moved out the old apartment. We'd shared one after graduation. It had been given to us by the organisation, and we'd spent the first couple months of our freedom living together. I use the word freedom loosely. We were no longer confined to the academy walls, but we were tracked. Konoha knew where we resided at all times, and they'd call us in at a moments notice. We were free, but only as free as they allowed us to be.

I turn a corner to escape the street, and climb upon a dumspter to pull at the graffiti-ed fire-escape. It lowers easily with a clank and I climb the old, rusted steps. It's passed midnight, but I know he's waiting. If he believes I'm alive, I have no doubt he'll stay all night. And just as predicted, he's there, standing at the other side of the roof terrace, own hood pulled over his head. Red locks poke out. I move between the ventilation systems, and he turns and squints into the darkness when he hears my feet against the roof tiles. I step from the confinements of the shadows and lower my hood.

He doesn't speak at first, just stands dumbly, eyes fixated on my face. "It can't be," he whispers. He inches closer, lowering his own hood. "I didn't… I didn't believe it was true." He steps forward again, cautiously. "How? How are you alive?" Pale fingers run across his forehead before brushing into his hair.

"Hey," I say, because I can't think of anything better.

"How're you alive?" he repeats. "I. I saw you die. I was following your feed that morning… I saw you go over that cliff and into the explosion."

Guilt grips my chest. Kakashi never told me Gaara followed the mission's feed that day. He'd just told me to make it look realistic. For a moment, I think he's going to touch me, but he doesn't. He just shakes his head.

"When I saw another IP address using the software… not for one moment did I think… I thought maybe it had been tampered with…" His voice raises, but still only enough just for us to hear. "You've been dead for nine months."

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologise." His teal eyes roam my features. "I doubt this was your idea."

My idea? No. But I'd been given the option. For the first time ever, I was approached and told I could deny the request. But I'd accepted, knowing what would happen and who would get hurt. I notice a bag beside his leg.

"Did you ditch the laptop?" he asks.

I nod and he passes me the bag. "My own personal one. No one should be able to penetrate it. I have programs on there that I haven't even told the organisation about."

I sniff out a little laugh. "You always have been too cautious for your own good."

"Well, it looks like it's come in handy this time."

I pull my packet of smokes out, and Gaara eyes the cigarette between my fingers. "Do you have a spare one of those?"

"You smoke?"

"I feel as if I'm about to start."

We sit against the wall that protects us from a five-story drop. His knee raises to lean an arm against as he takes another drag, and I tell him everything. No one is supposed to know, but I trust Gaara more than I even trust Kakashi. I'd requested to let him into the infiltration plan. I knew his talents would help in ways that I lacked the skill, but Kakashi had refused. He takes it in, chews over my words and nods.

"Last year," he says after a few moments of silence. "I found a couple of leaks in the feed and a few inconsistencies in the mainframe. I thought they may have been mistakes. I rectified the problem, but now… maybe they were deliberate. Do you have any leads?"

"A few," I say. "It's not panning out as I thought."

"No. Sarutobi is a smart man. If he doesn't want to be caught, it's going to take more than just you to get this sorted. I'll keep an eye on the systems and stay in contact. I'm the only one who can get through the firewalls on that laptop, so if I find anything, I can let you know."

"It's a shame you were never great at protecting yourself. You'd make a good field agent."

He laughs then. It's not throaty, it's a small sound drifting from his lips. "I'm happy enough not getting shot at on a daily basis, but thank you."

"I don't blame you." I flick the cigarette's butt across the roof terrace, and watch the ember fall and disappear. "I heard about what happened. Thank you… for stopping him."

"Yeah, that… I was just wondering if you knew." He sighs. "I was the one who told him. I thought you'd appreciate it coming from me. I'd kept an eye on him all morning. He'd gone into the locker room and three hours later he left holding a note and your ring. He went to the roof, I thought maybe for some fresh air, but when he didn't return, I followed."

Gaara tosses the cigarette's butt over his shoulder, letting it fall the five-stories to the ground below. "He was at your spot, right on the edge." He shakes his head. "Shit, Sasuke. If I'd been a second later. Even at the academy, I'd never seen him… no anyone… so… He was shouting and crying and shaking. When he shifted forward, I just managed to catch his jacket and pull him to the floor. He made a good job at trying to fight me off, but… I told him if he was going to jump he'd have to take me with him because I wasn't letting go. Kakashi appeared not long after."

"Thank you," I whisper again. "For everything. And for taking him in." I catch his teal eyes with my own. "But you can't tell him I'm alive. It might cause suspicion if he starts acting differently. We can't afford to mess this up."

"I know," Gaara says. "But I couldn't tell him even if I wanted to. He isn't living at mine any more. They offered him a teaching position at the academy a couple months ago. I haven't seen him since."

A teacher? "How was he the last time you saw him?"

"I honestly don't know. After a while he smiled and laughed again, but it was as if something had gone out in him… like… his light, if that makes any sense? He came home drunk one night, kept saying it was his fault. He honestly believes you died because he wasn't there when you needed him most. He kept saying he wanted to leave the organisation. It sounded like he'd only stayed so long because you couldn't leave with him."

He had mentioned it a few times. Only a couple months training hadn't cost him much, and his debt had been paid within the first year. Mine was five times larger, but even if I could, I didn't know if I'd leave. I didn't know anything else.

"How does life get like this?" he asks, but I'm not sure he wants an answer. So I don't reply. We hear groups of young adults leave a bar below. They laugh and flirt and slur their words as they tell jokes. I listen until their voices disappear into the wind, and for a moment, I let myself wonder what life would be like to be one of them.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
THREE YEARS EARLIER  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kiba told me first.

Naruto was out the infirmary. But he wasn't in class. So when the bell rang to free us from last period, I didn't return to my own room. I made my way to his dorm, and knocked on his door before entering.

His head lifted, and his face scrunched, almost as if he hadn't expected me to visit. He paused, bandages in hand, and stared.

"Hey," I said. The word felt stupid as it filtered into the silent room.

"Hey," he said back and continued to rap the white cotton sheet around the burn on his arm. He winced, struggling to keep hold of the material.

I grabbed it and wound it around his arm. His skin still held blemishes, but they'd lessoned over the week he'd been incarcerated. "Didn't the nurses tell you to come to my room when you were released?"

"I don't need babying." He grabbed the bandages back and tied them with a hand and his teeth.

"I didn't think you did."

"Sasuke, what do you want, because I'm tired." His words were sharp, they almost made me flinch, but I didn't. I just sat on the end of his bed, like he had that time.

"I just wanted to make sure you were..."

"That I was okay? Yes, I'm perfect, can't you tell?" Could I tell? No, not really. The black circles around his eyes were now a light purple, and the deep purples against his chest and abdomen were now a light pink. He seemed healthier now he'd slept and eaten, but his body still looked as if he'd had a fight with a bulldozer and lost. "I'm sorry," he said when I didn't reply.

"Don't apologise."

"It's just. I'm on a lot of medication right now." I noted the collection of bottles and packets on his desk. "And I'm… I don't know, I'm not going to lie, I'm embarrassed."

"Don't be embarrassed." Because really, what did he have to be embarrassed about? What Danzo did wasn't designed for him to get through easily. There was no passing. He wasn't supposed to stay strong. It was designed for him to cry and beg and break. "Thank you… for taking my place."

His blue eyes found their way back to my face, and he blinked, a little surprised, as if he hadn't expected my gratitude.

"I owe you," I said, because I did. I owed him big time.

"It's fine," he said. "I was expecting it anyway, so it doesn't make much difference."

He apparently knew me before the academy, I wanted to broach the subject but didn't feel it was fair to bombard him with questions straight away, so I let it sit in the air. Like Danzo had suggested, he may not even remember speaking those words.

He sighed and leaned his back against the cold wall. His shirt still sat on the floor where he must've thrown it to get the bandages on, and I noticed the dips of his muscles as he raised his legs. And so, we sat in silence. Me staring at him as he gazed at the wall.

"At least I still have my own teeth." I think that was supposed to be a joke, but it didn't make either of us laugh. He was, after all, actually really lucky they hadn't been ripped from his gum. Danzo's job was to break the boy, not damage him permanently. I believed the man was skilled enough to know when enough was enough. Everyone had a limit, and the teacher had pushed just beyond it, before calling the training to an end. "He came to see me in the infirmary."

"Danzo?"

"Hmm," he hummed. "Told me I'd done well and gave me some chocolate. I can't remember the last time I'd eaten anything sweet. Made me feel kind of sick, actually… Oh!" He stood too quickly, slowed his pace when he almost toppled over, and dug through his desk's drawer. "I saved you some." He held the silver wrapper out, but I didn't take it. He must've misread my expression. "What? Don't you like chocolate?"

"Why would you do that?"

He shrugged. "Well, you've been here five years, so I thought maybe..."

He'd taken my place in The Chamber, taken all that suffering upon himself, and yet he was still thinking of me. "You've already done too much," I said, and he placed the chocolate upon the white duvet.

"It's yours if you want it, but don't tell Gaara, I didn't leave him any." A serene expression coasted across his face when he smiled, and it made me queasy. I was a complete coward,  
I'd let him take my place without so much of a word, and still, he was…

"Don't do that."

His smile fell. "Do what?"

"Be so kind to me. I've done nothing to deserve it."

He sat back on the bed. "You have." His nose wrinkled in mock-offence. "Even if you don't remember."

I hadn't brought the subject up myself, so I deemed it okay to ask. "What did you mean, when you said we knew each other?"

"Straight to the point then, eh?" He grinned and the purple around his eyes deepened at the creases.

"Sorry."

"Nah, I was expecting you to ask, so I thought I'd coax it. We met when we were younger. Our dads were on a case together, so I stayed at your house for a few days. You were the first kid I'd ever met." His lips twisted. "You were my first friend. I'm kind of surprised you don't remember. We weren't that young."

"I'm sorry, I don't." Perhaps he was mistaking me for someone else.

"How can you not?" He laughed and poked my arm. "How can you not remember how angry our dads were when we ran away together? Granted, we got no farther than your old tree-house, but hell, they spent hours looking for us." He winced. "I got such a smack."

Wait. I remembered that. But… it couldn't have been him. I remembered a blond man at our home, but with a daughter. I spent weeks after that finding long, blonde strands of hair all over the place. I remembered childhood games, laughing. I remembered overhearing they were leaving and concocting a, at the time, brilliant plan to live in my tree-house so she wouldn't have to go. There had been no whisker-like scars on her face. But then, she'd never worn a skirt or dress, either.

Fingers waved in front of my face. "Hello, mission-control to Sasuke. Do you read?"

I slapped his hand away.

"Are you okay, you've gone red?"

My cheeks burned. It couldn't have been him. "I don't remember."

"Your eyes are watering. You're lying." He laughed and leaned closer with narrowing eyelids, but that playful glint never disappeared. "Why're you so red, Sasuke?" He said through smirking lips.

A fake childhood wedding flashed through my mind's eye. Rings made of daisies. A kiss and a promise to be together forever.

I scooted away from his onslaught of stares, arm raising as if to defend myself, but as much as I tried, I couldn't calm the burning in my skin. "You… you didn't have long hair as a child… did you?"

He burst then, and I was certain every gash on his face would split from the force of his laughter. He wiped his eyes, and my skin burned harder, but this time it mixed with anger. "You do remember," he said after calming enough to speak.

"Why the hell did you have long hair?"

He shrugged. "We hadn't been home for a year, so mum hadn't cut it."

"That's a stupid excuse."

He snickered. "Don't tell me you thought I was a girl?"

"Urusai, baka. What the hell else would I think at that age?"

"There's no need to shout."

"Of course I thought you were a girl, why else would I have..." My words hung in the air, and Naruto leaned against the wall again, grin never leaving his face. The bastard was  
enjoying this.

"Why else would you have married me?"

If he wasn't so beaten already, I'd have strangled him. "Don't say that."

He shrugged and laughed again. "We were kids, don't get so angry."

"You knew I was a boy?"

"Of course."

"Then why didn't you say anything back then?"

He picked at a scab on his arm. "I dunno. I guess, I just liked it when you kept calling me pretty."

Little crackles left my mouth as my fingers twitched toward his throat. Was this my punishment for letting Naruto take my place? Because I honestly didn't know what torture would be worse. But then I remembered the blond begging and crying on the floor and decided he definitely suffered more.

"Can we promise to never talk about this again?"

"Aw." His lip poked out. "But I thought we already promised to be together forever." That time I didn't care he was already battered, I punched his arm, albeit I did hold back, and received a satisfying yelp.

I tried to avoid him after that, but I couldn't. Not because of Naruto. No, not at all. At the end of every day I willed my feet to lead me to my room, but I'd always arrive at his. I couldn't help myself. He wasn't attending classes yet, and I couldn't bare the thought of him sitting alone all day and all evening, so against my better judgement, I made it my duty  
to take him his coursework and keep him company for a while.

He was usually perched at his desk or curled in bed. He took fewer meds now, but the tranquilliser type tablets still seemed to knock him out at times.

But he wasn't at either.

I placed the books upon his desk, but paused when something caught my attention. Pieces of paper littered the surface, pens and pencils strewn across the sheets, and I noticed the extraordinary pieces of art embedded into the paper. My fingers brushed across a few to sweep them to the side, revealing more of the artwork. Sunsets in black and white. Portraits of people I could only assume he knew. The blond man I recognised, but others held a long haired woman I'd never seen. Perhaps his mother? And a crazed looking white haired man smirked up at me.

These were… incredibly detailed.

The door squeaked and a smell of soap filled the room.

"Sasuke?" Naruto appeared in the doorway, and I turned my back to the people sketched on his desk. Blond hair stuck to his tanned cheeks, but this time wet from shampoo and water. Liquid dripped from the locks and trailed down the side of his neck until the drop collected in his collarbone. "You're not usually here this early." He gripped at the towel around his waist and I averted my gaze as he grabbed boxers from his drawer and shoved legs through the holes. He scrubbed his hair with the towel and hung it over his shoulders. The bruises were still visible, but they were fading fast.

The room warmed as that bead of water fell from his collarbone to lick at his chest, abs, and into the hem of his boxers.

"Sasuke?"

"Anata no shukudai." I pointed to the piles of books and coursework on his desk.

"Ah? Masaka." He flopped onto his bed, bouncing as his weight hit the mattress. His muscles tensed, and I found myself wanting to escape the compacted space immediately. He stared at me, and I cleared my throat.

"Ja, mata ashita aimashou."

"Neh, Sasuke-kun..."

"Hmm?"

"Why do you do that?"

"Nan—Do what?"

"Tokidoki Nihongo de hanasu."

I paused, fingers moving from the door handle to turn back to the blond boy. I didn't know why I'd sometimes swap between the two languages. I never thought about it since everyone at the school spoke both with ease. It was my parents first language, and they spoke it at home when I was younger, I perhaps felt it comforting. I clearly wasn't native to this country with my black hair, pale skin and Asian features, but I didn't often consider it. I definitely wasn't a Westerner, but still...

"At first I thought it might be your first language, but your parents never actually spoke anything but English to you when I stayed." I dabbled with languages as a child, but I hadn't become fluent until attending Konoha. He stood, boxers rubbing against his leg as he moved toward me. I leaned away from the door and he closed it. I suddenly felt very trapped. I was never good in tight spaces. I'd learned that in first year when they'd tested me for claustrophobia. Mr. baki had pulled me from the box when I'd began hyperventilating.

"Then I realised you tend to do it when you get annoyed." I stepped away when he became too close. "Or nervous."

"I don't get nervous."

His biceps crossed his body to fold. "No?"

"Don't be stupid, Naruto." I bit. "Move out the way, I have my own coursework I need to start. I can't stand around here all day."

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"What? Stop being so ridiculous."

"Is it because of the other day? You've been different since then."

My lips moved a few times. Had I been acting differently? Yes, I suppose I had. But after he'd taken my place in Danzo's class and after realising my childhood crush was no other than the bumbling blond idiot, of course I was. How could I not? It didn't help that there was something about the way he looked at me sometimes that made me uncomfortable. Whether that be a tiny glance from the side or a full on stare when he thought I was unaware, it always created this short of breath feeling that had me clutching at whatever I had close. At first I thought it was guilt, then maybe embarrassment because of our past, but then realising it was neither of those things, I didn't know what it was. And that confused me. It confused me more than anything else ever had, and that confusion was twisting its way into irritation and resentment.

"And don't try to say that you're not. I don't need observation training to realise that you're different all of a sudden."

This boy. This blond… I couldn't call him an idiot, because he clearly wasn't. My initial hatred toward him had been sucked away, being left with what I could only call a mild friendship. But it differed to what I held with Gaara. Naruto turned up one day, and throughout the months he'd been at the academy, it felt as if my life had turned upside down. There was just something about him. All those emotions I spent so many years hiding behind a wall now flooded one by one back into my consciousness. Hate, irritation, annoyance, they all mixed together along with a type of peace and contentment when I was with him.

But yet… "I don't know anything about you," I said. He turned up, and he knew me, even if he didn't know everything about me. But I hadn't remembered him. And I didn't know him, not really.

"Well," he said, pulling clothes from his wardrobe and changing into them. "What do you want to know?"

What did I want to know? Honestly, I didn't really know myself. And would he tell me the truth even if I asked? "Don't worry about it." I headed toward the door, but warm fingers wound around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. I looked back into those ocean blue eyes, and there they were again, baring into me in a way that had my stomach twisting.  
I wanted to leave, but I couldn't bring myself to go when he asked me to stay. I wanted to believe that I obeyed because I owed him, but in reality, I stayed because I wanted to. I liked being around him, he made me feel almost normal. And when that warmth crept from my wrist to my elbow, I tugged my arm lightly until he let go.

We didn't converse much to begin with, I just went back to the desk and continued studying the drawings. He didn't deny me access to the scribblings from his mind. He sat on his mattress, flicking through his coursework, every now and again writing something down. But even though I didn't look at him, I could feel those eyes watching me and my every move. Whenever I'd tilt my head in his direction, his attention would disappear back into his work. And that's how we stayed for a while, him staring at me as I pretended to be oblivious to the attention. In a way, I didn't mind. But in another, I was beginning to feel a little flustered, and that unusual feeling, like always, twisted into irritation.

"What?" I asked when I managed to catch his eyes. He hadn't looked away quick enough. Potentially lost in his own thoughts. Perhaps he was actually looking at the pieces of paper in my hand, not me. Maybe that was just my imagination.

"What?" he repeated the word that'd left my own lips.

"Why do you keep looking at me?"

"Hmm? Oh, I don't know... Sorry." He chewed the end of his pen and continued to scribble in his work book.

"These are pretty decent," I said when the room fell silent.

"Thanks."

"Did your dad teach you to draw?" I placed the last of the paper back onto the desk.

"No." He dropped the workbook and he scooted across the mattress until he was close enough to pick up a piece of the art himself. He held the picture of the long haired woman, and I noted the warm smile radiating from the shading. "My mum did." He peered at the woman. "She was amazing. Dad said she could've been an artist if circumstances were different. I think she wanted to be..." He put it back onto the desk. "She didn't want the life we had."

"Was your mum an assassin as well?" I asked. We didn't ask about each other's families. But, at that moment, it felt right, and I couldn't resist.

"Yeah, but she was an undercover agent before meeting Dad. That's how they met, actually, they worked together on a mission. She told me once..." he paused, eyes turning quizzical, almost as if he was reconsidering indulging me with so much information. Whatever had gone through his mind, he must've deemed me worthy of the personal details, because he continued. "...She was close to giving it all up. She was a year out from resigning and becoming an art teacher. She'd had enough. Seen too much." He sighed. "But then she met Dad, had me… wanted to protect us, I guess. That's how she died, protecting us… protecting me. The job got them both in the end." His eyes roamed the duvet and they tightened, but no tears formed. "It always does." His head turned in my direction. "It'll get us too one day."

"Perhaps."

"There's no perhaps about it. We're pawns, Sasuke. We're expendable. Especially with this academy now up and running. Every year there will be dozens more Sasukes and Narutos attending to train their way into being soldiers for the government to use."

"If you feel that way, why did you enrol?"

He shrugged and shuffled back to the other side of the bed to pick his coursework up. "Who knows?"

"You definitely do," I said, moving my weight from the desk to sit at the corner of his bed. I do wonder why I pushed the subject, but after months he was finally opening up, and it made me want more. A part of me, that selfish part that had been rooted from childhood, wanted to hear that he'd suffered like the rest of us. Then, I'd know we were the  
same. "You said… you said you enrolled because-"

"Don't, Sasuke. That's not fair."

No perhaps it wasn't, but it was already in the air. And no one ever said I was a fair person. Was I considering his feelings? No, probably not. But at that moment, I didn't care. And maybe that made me a bad person, but at that time, I didn't know how else to act. I'd seen a weakness, and I wanted the Intel. "-You didn't want to be alone?"

The edges of his notebook creased under the weight of his fingers. "Mostly," he mumbled.

Mostly? Had he lied to Danzo? No, just hadn't told the whole truth. That was either brave, or completely moronic. I leaned across the bed and stole the book as he had mine all those months ago, but I didn't drop it to the floor. He rushed forward to grab it back and I let him take it.

"Why're you so interested all of a sudden, anyway? A couple months ago you didn't want anything to do with me."

"That was before."

"Before what?"

"Before I became interested."

"Great. So now you've decided you want to know about me, and you expect me to just tell you everything. Just like that?" Honestly, yes, I wanted him to, but I knew it wouldn't be that easy. "You never tell me anything. Not since that night we left the academy."

"There isn't much to tell," I said. "You asked me earlier what I wanted to know. I want to know why you enrolled at the academy. Especially now since you seem to think this path leads no where but death."

He clicked his tongue off his teeth, and that stare was back. But this time he was being completely obvious about it. There was no pretending I was unaware. If I hadn't known the impossibility of it, I may have believed he could see right into my soul. And so he stared at me, as I stared at him.

"I was supposed to enrol when the program began," he said. "But… something happened. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to. Dad told me you were enrolling, and I wanted to see you. But I didn't, and after a while I forgot about it, but then Dad was taken. I was completely alone. For months. I didn't know what to do, but then I remembered you and that this place existed. I suppose, I just wanted to belong somewhere. I don't know if I want to stay in this industry. But I suppose I have no one left to lose, so why bother doing anything else?"

"What happened. Why didn't you enrol?"

"That's enough, Sasuke." He sniffed. "You belong in this world."

"Why do you say that?"

"Just a hunch. But I have a feeling you're the type to suck everything you want, and then spit it out… but you can't turn back once a black-hole's gravitational pull grabs you."

I tried to tell him he was an idiot, that he wasn't making any sense. But I suppose he was making perfect sense. All those stares, those unusual glares. Perhaps he knew me a lot better than either of us made out. Looking back, I wonder if he had attempted to work out if being my friend was worth the risk. Worth being sucked into a world where you would always be second best to myself and my goals. I'm not completely a bad person, or at least Naruto refused to believe so, otherwise he wouldn't have gotten so attached. But once you lose certain parts of yourself, I don't think it's possible to fully regain them back.


End file.
